F   CALIFORNIA          LIBRARY   OF   THE    UNIVERSITY   OF    CALIFORNIA 


F   CALIFORNIA          LIBRARY    OF   THE    UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA 


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ERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA         LIBRARY    OF   THE    UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA 


ERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA 

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LIBRARY   OF   THE   UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA 


CDVITV    nc     niiicnoyii  IIDD 


THE 

ROMANCE: 

or  THE 

MILKY 

WAY 


OTHER 
STUDIES 

AND 
STORIES 


THE  RO 
MANCE 
OF  THE 
MILRY 
&  WAY 

AND  OTHER 
STUDIES  «l 
STORIES  BY 
LAFCADIO 
HEAKN  0 


HOUGHTON 

MIFFL1N  AND 
COMPANY  O 
BOSTON  AND 
NEW  YORK  19O7 


COPYRIGHT 
1905    BY 
HOUGHTON 
MIFFLIN  8k 
COMPANY 
ALL  RIGHTS 
RESERVED 


PUBLISHED 

OCTOBER 

19O5 


N 
T 


PAGE 

THE   ROMANCE   OF    THE   MILKY   WAY  ....  I 

GOBLIN    POETRY 51 

"  ULTIMATE    QUESTIONS  " 103 

THE   MIRROR    MAIDEN ,  125 

THE   STORY   OF    ITO    NORISUKF, 139 

STRANGER    THAN    FICTION 167 

A   LETTER   FROM   JAPAN 179 


242346 


I 

N 
T 
R 
O 

D 

LAFCADIO  HEARN,  known  to  Nippon 

is  Yakumo  Koizumi,  was  born  in  Leucadia  in 
;he  Ionian  Islands,  June  27,  1850.  His  father 
vas  an  Irish  surgeon  in  the  British  Army  ;  his 
nother  was  a  Greek.  Both  parents  died  while 
Hearn  was  still  a  child,  and  he  was  adopted  by 
i  great-aunt,  and  educated  for  the  priesthood. 
Fo  this  training  he  owed  his  Latin  scholarship 
ind,  doubtless,  something  of  the  subtlety  of  his 
ntelligence.  He  soon  found,  however,  that  the 
prospect  of  an  ecclesiastical  career  was  alien  from 
lis  inquiring  mind  and  vivid  temperament,  and 
it  the  age  of  nineteen  he  came  to  America  to 
>eek  his  fortune.  After  working  for  a  time  as  a 
Droof-reader,  he  obtained  employment  as  a  news 
paper  reporter  in  Cincinnati.  Soon  he  rose  to 
3e  an  editorial  writer,  and  went  in  the  course  of 
i  few  years  to  New  Orleans  to  join  the  editorial 
staff  of  the  "Times-Democrat."  Here  he  lived 
intil  1887,  writing  odd  fantasies  and  arabesques 
ior  his  paper,  contributing  articles  and  sketches 

vii 


I 

N 
T 
R 
O 
D 

LAFCADIO  HEARN,  known  to  Nippon 
as  Yakumo  Koizumi,  was  born  in  Leucadia  in 
the  Ionian  Islands,  June  27,  1850.  His  father 
was  an  Irish  surgeon  in  the  British  Army  ;  his 
mother  was  a  Greek.  Both  parents  died  while 
Hearn  was  still  a  child,  and  he  was  adopted  by 
a  great-aunt,  and  educated  for  the  priesthood. 
To  this  training  he  owed  his  Latin  scholarship 
and,  doubtless,  something  of  the  subtlety  of  his 
intelligence.  He  soon  found,  however,  that  the 
prospect  of  an  ecclesiastical  career  was  alien  from 
his  inquiring  mind  and  vivid  temperament,  and 
at  the  age  of  nineteen  he  came  to  America  to 
seek  his  fortune.  After  working  for  a  time  as  a 
proof-reader,  he  obtained  employment  as  a  news 
paper  reporter  in  Cincinnati.  Soon  he  rose  to 
be  an  editorial  writer,  and  went  in  the  course  of 
a  few  years  to  New  Orleans  to  join  the  editorial 
staff  of  the  "Times-Democrat."  Here  he  lived 
until  1887,  writing  odd  fantasies  and  arabesques 
for  his  paper,  contributing  articles  and  sketches 

vii 


I 

N 
T 
R 
O 

D 

LAFCADIO  HEARN,  known  to  Nippon 

as  Yakumo  Koizumi,  was  born  in  Leucadia  in 
the  Ionian  Islands,  June  27,  1850.  His  father 
was  an  Irish  surgeon  in  the  British  Army  ;  his 
mother  was  a  Greek.  Both  parents  died  while 
Hearn  was  still  a  child,  and  he  was  adopted  by 
a  great-aunt,  and  educated  for  the  priesthood. 
To  this  training  he  owed  his  Latin  scholarship 
and,  doubtless,  something  of  the  subtlety  of  his 
intelligence.  He  soon  found,  however,  that  the 
prospect  of  an  ecclesiastical  career  was  alien  from 
his  inquiring  mind  and  vivid  temperament,  and 
at  the  age  of  nineteen  he  came  to  America  to 
seek  his  fortune.  After  working  for  a  time  as  a 
proof-reader,  he  obtained  employment  as  a  news 
paper  reporter  in  Cincinnati.  Soon  he  rose  to 
be  an  editorial  writer,  and  went  in  the  course  of 
a  few  years  to  New  Orleans  to  join  the  editorial 
staff  of  the  "Times-Democrat."  Here  he  lived 
until  1887,  writing  odd  fantasies  and  arabesques 
for  his  paper,  contributing  articles  and  sketches 

vii 


to  the  magazines,  and  publishing  several  curious 
little  books,  among  them  his  "  Stray  Leaves 
from  Strange  Literature,"  and  his  translations 
from  Gautier.  In  the  winter  of  1887  he  began 
his  pilgrimages  to  exotic  countries,  being,  as  he 
wrote  to  a  friend,  "  a  small  literary  bee  in  search 
of  inspiring  honey."  After  a  couple  of  years, 
spent  chiefly  in  the  French  West  Indies,  with 
periods  of  literary  work  in  New  York,  he  went 
in  1 890  to  Japan  to  prepare  a  series,  of  articles 
for  a  magazine.  Here  through  some  deep  affin 
ity  of  mood  with  the  marvelous  people  of  that 
country  he  seems  suddenly  to  have  felt  himself 
at  last  at  home.  He  married  a  Japanese  woman ; 
he  acquired  Japanese  citizenship  in  order  to 
preserve  the  succession  of  his  property  to  his 
family  there ;  he  became  a  lecturer  in  the  Im 
perial  University  at  Tokyo ;  and  in  a  series  of 
remarkable  books  he  made  himself  the  inter 
preter  to  the  Western  World  of  the  very  spirit 
of  Japanese  life  and  art.  He  died  there  of  pa 
ralysis  of  the  heart  on  the  26th  of  September, 
1904. 

With  the  exception  of  a  body  of 
familiar  letters  now  in  process  of  collection,  the 
present  volume  contains  all  of  Hearn's  writing 
viii 


that  he  left  uncollected  in  the  magazines  or  in 
manuscript  of  a  sufficient  ripeness  for  publica 
tion.  It  is  worth  noting,  however,  that  perfect 
as  is  the  writing  of  "  Ultimate  Questions,"  and 
complete  as  the  essay  is  in  itself,  the  author 
regarded  it  as  unfinished,  and,  had  he  lived, 
would  have  revised  and  amplified  some  por 
tions  of  it. 

But  if  this  volume  lacks  the  incom 
parably  exquisite  touch  of  its  author  in  its  ar 
rangement  and  revision,  it  does,  nevertheless, 
present  him  in  all  of  his  most  characteristic 
veins,  and  it  is  in  respect  both  to  style  and  to 
substance  perhaps  the  most  mature  and  signifi 
cant  of  his  works. 

In  his  first  days  as  a  writer  Hearn  had 
conceived  an  ideal  of  his  art  as  specific  as  it  was 
ambitious.  Early  in  the  eighties  he  wrote  from 
New  Orleans  in  an  unpublished  letter  to  the  Rev. 
Way  land  D.  Ball  of  Washington  :  "The  lovers 
of  antique  loveliness  are  proving  to  me  the  fu 
ture  possibilities  of  a  long  cherished  dream,  — 
the  English  realization  of  a  Latin  style,  modeled 
upon  foreign  masters,  and  rendered  even  more 
forcible  by  that  element  of  strength  which  is 
the  characteristic  of  Northern  tongues.  This  no 
man  can  hope  to  accomplish,  but  even  a  trans- 

ix 


lator  may  carry  his  stones  to  the  master-masons 
of  a  new  architecture  of  language."  In  the  real 
ization  of  his  ideal  Hearn  took  unremitting 
pains.  He  gave  a  minute  and  analytical  study 
to  the  writings  of  such  masters  of  style  as  Flau 
bert  and  Gautier,  and  he  chose  his  miscella 
neous  reading  with  a  peculiar  care.  He  wrote 
again  to  the  same  friend  :  "  I  never  read  a  book 
which  does  not  powerfully  impress  the  imagi 
nation  ;  but  whatever  contains  novel,  curious, 
potent  imagery  I  always  read,  no  matter  what 
the  subject.  When  the  soil  of  fancy  is  really 
well  enriched  with  innumerable  fallen  leaves, 
the  flowers  of  language  grow  spontaneously." 
Finally,  to  the  hard  study  of  technique,  to 
vast  but  judicious  reading,  he  added  a  long, 
creative  brooding  time.  To  a  Japanese  friend, 
Nobushige  Amenomori,  he  wrote  in  a  passage 
which  contains  by  implication  a  deep  theory 
not  only  of  literary  composition,  but  of  all 
art:- 

"  Now  with  regard  to  your  own 
sketch  or  story.  If  you  are  quite  dissatisfied 
with  it,  I  think  this  is  probably  due  not  to 
what  you  suppose,  —  imperfection  of  expres- 
sion>  —  but  rather  to  the  fact  that  some  latent 
thought  or  emotion  has  not  yet  defined  itself  in 
x 


your  mind  with  sufficient  sharpness.  You  feel 
something  and  have  not  been  able  to  express  the 
feeling — only  because  you  do  not  yet  quite 
know  what  it  is.  We  feel  without  understand 
ing  feeling ;  and  our  most  powerful  emotions 
are  the  most  undefinable.  This  must  be  so,  be 
cause  they  are  inherited  accumulations  of  feel 
ing,  and  the  multiplicity  of  them — superimposed 
one  over  another  —  blurs  them,  and  makes  them 
dim,  even  though  enormously  increasing  their 
strength.  .  .  .  Unconscious  brain  work  is  the 
best  to  develop  such  latent  feeling  or  thought. 
By  quietly  writing  the  thing  over  and  over  again, 
I  find  that  the  emotion  or  idea  often  develops 
itself  in  the  process,  —  unconsciously.  Again, 
it  is  often  worth  while  to  try  to  analyze  the  feel 
ing  that  remains  dim.  The  effort  of  trying  to 
understand  exactly  what  it  is  that  moves  us 
sometimes  proves  successful.  ...  If  you  have 
any  feeling  —  no  matter  what  —  strongly  latent 
in  the  mind  (even  only  a  haunting  sadness  or 
a  mysterious  joy),  you  may  be  sure  that  it  is 
expressible.  Some  feelings  are,  of  course,  very 
difficult  to  develop.  I  shall  show  you  one  of 
these  days,  when  we  see  each  other,  a  page  that 
I  worked  at  for  months  before  the  idea  came 
clearly.  .  .  .  When  the  best  result  comes,  it 

xi 


ought  to  surprise  you,  for  our  best  work  is  out 
of  the  Unconscious." 

Through  this  study,  reading,  and  brood 
ing  Lafcadio  Hearn's  prose  ripened  and  mellowed 
consistently  to  the  end.  In  mere  workmanship 
the  present  volume  is  one  of  his  most  admirable, 
while  in  its  heightened  passages,  like  the  final 
paragraph  of  "  The  Romance  of  the  Milky 
Way,"  the  rich,  melancholy  music,  the  profound 
suggestion,  are  not  easily  matched  from  any 
but  the  very  greatest  English  prose. 

In  substance  the  volume  is  equally  sig 
nificant.  In  1884  he  wrote  to  one  of  the  closest 
of  his  friends  that  he  had  at  last  found  his  feet 
intellectually  through  the  reading  of  Herbert 
Spencer  which  had  dispelled  all  "isms"  from 
his  mind  and  left  him  "  the  vague  but  omnipo 
tent  consolation  of  the  Great  Doubt."  And  in 
"  Ultimate  Questions,"  which  strikes,  so  to  say, 
the  dominant  chord  of  this  volume,  we  have  an 
almost  lyrical  expression  of  the  meaning  for  him 
of  the  Spencerian  philosophy  and  psychology. 
In  it  is  his  characteristic  mingling  of  Buddhist 
and  Shint5  thought  with  English  and  French 
psychology,  strains  which  in  his  work  "  do  not 
simply  mix  well,"  as  he  says  in  one  of  his  let 
ters,  but  "absolutely  unite,  like  chemical  ele- 
xii 


ments,  —  rush  together  with  a  shock ;  "  —  and 
in  it  he  strikes  his  deepest  note.  In  his  steady 
envisagement  of  the  horror  that  envelops  the 
stupendous  universe  of  science,  in  his  power  to 
evoke  and  revive  old  myths  and  superstitions, 
and  by  their  glamour  to  cast  a  ghostly  light  of 
vanished  suns  over  the  darkness  of  the  abyss, 
he  was  the  most  Lucretian  of  modern  writers. 

In  outward  appearance  Hearn,  the 
man,  was  in  no  way  prepossessing.  In  the 
sharply  lined  picture  of  him  drawn  by  one  of 
his  Japanese  comrades  in  the  "  Atlantic  "  for 
October,  1905,  he  appears,  "slightly  corpulent 
in  later  years,  short  in  stature,  hardly  five  feet 
high,  of  somewhat  stooping  gait.  A  little  brown 
ish  in  complexion,  and  of  rather  hairy  skin.  A 
thin,  sharp,  aquiline  nose,  large  protruding  eyes, 
of  which  the  left  was  blind  and  the  right  very 
near-sighted." 

The  same  writer,  Nobushige  Ameno- 
mori,  has  set  down  a  reminiscence,  not  of  Hearn 
the  man,  but  of  Hearn  the  genius,  wherewith 
this  introduction  to  the  last  of  his  writings  may 
fitly  conclude :  "I  shall  ever  retain  the  vivid 
remembrance  of  the  sight  I  had  when  I  stayed 
over  night  at  his  house  for  the  first  time.  Being 

xiii 


used  myself  also  to  sit  up  late,  I  read  in  bed  that 
night.  The  clock  struck  one  in  the  morning,  but 
there  was  a  light  in  Ream's  study.  I  heard  some 
low,  hoarse  coughing.  I  was  afraid  my  friend 
might  be  ill ;  so  I  stepped  out  of  my  room  and 
went  to  his  study.  Not  wanting,  however,  to  dis 
turb  him,  if  he  was  at  work,  I  cautiously  opened 
the  door  just  a  little,  and  peeped  in.  I  saw  my 
friend  intent  in  writing  at  his  high  desk,  with  his 
nose  almost  touching  the  paper.  Leaf  after  leaf 
he  wrote  on.  In  a  while  he  held  up  his  head,  and 
what  did  I  see !  It  was  not  the  Hearn  I  was 
familiar  with ;  it  was  another  Hearn.  His  face 
was  mysteriously  white ;  his  large  eye  gleamed. 
He  appeared  like  one  in  touch  with  some  un 
earthly  presence. 

"Within  that  homely  looking  man 
there  burned  something  pure  as  the  vestal  fire, 
and  in  that  flame  dwelt  a  mind  that  called  forth 
life  and  poetry  out  of  dust,  and  grasped  the 
highest  themes  of  human  thought." 

F.  G. 

September,  1905. 


THE 

ROMANCE: 

OF  THE 

MILKY 

WAY 


Of  old  it  was  said  :  «  The  River  of  Heaven  is  the  Ghost 
of  Waters.'  We  behold  it  shifting  its  bed  in  the  course 
of  the  year  as  an  earthly  river  sometimes  does. 

Ancient  Scholar 


THE 
ROMANCE 

or 

THE 

MILIiY 

WAT 

AMONG  the  many  charming  festivals 
celebrated  by  Old  Japan,  the  most  romantic  was 
the  festival  of  Tanabata-Sama,  the  Weaving- 
Lady  of  the  Milky  Way.  In  the  chief  cities  her 
holiday  is  now  little  observed ;  and  in  Toky5 
it  is  almost  forgotten.  But  in  many  country 
districts,  and  even  in  villages  near  the  capi 
tal,  it  is  still  celebrated  in  a  small  way.  If 
you  happen  to  visit  an  old-fashioned  country 
town  or  village,  on  the  seventh  day  of  the 
seventh  month  (by  the  ancient  calendar),  you 
will  probably  notice  many  freshly-cut  bamboos 
fixed  upon  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  or  planted 
in  the  ground  beside  them,  every  bamboo  hav 
ing  attached  to  it  a  number  of  strips  of  colored 

3 


•paper,  *;  hi  some  very  poor  villages  you  might 
find  that  these  papers  are  white,  or  of  one 
color  only  ;  but  the  general  rule  is  that  the 
papers  should  be  of  five  or  seven  different 
colors.  Blue,  green,  red,  yellow,  and  white  are 
the  tints  commonly  displayed.  All  these  papers 
are  inscribed  with  short  poems  written  in  praise 
of  Tanabata  and  her  husband  Hikoboshi.  After 
the  festival  the  bamboos  are  taken  down  and 
thrown  into  the  nearest  stream,  together  with 
the  poems  attached  to  them. 

To  understand  the  romance  of  this 
old  festival,  you  must  know  the  legend  of  those 
astral  divinities  to  whom  offerings  used  to  be 
made,  even  by  the  Imperial  Household,  on 
the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh  month.  The 
legend  is  Chinese.  This  is  the  Japanese  popu 
lar  version  of  it :  — 

The  great  god  of  the  firmament  had 
a  lovely  daughter,  Tanabata-tsumd,  who  passed 
her  days  in  weaving  garments  for  her  august 
parent.  She  rejoiced  in  her  work,  and  thought 
that  there  was  no  greater  pleasure  than  the 
4 


pleasure  of  weaving.  But  one  day,  as  she  sat 
before  her  loom  at  the  door  of  her  heavenly 
dwelling,  she  saw  a  handsome  peasant  lad  pass 
by,  leading  an  ox,  and  she  fell  in  love  with  him. 
Her  august  father,  divining  her  secret  wish, 
gave  her  the  youth  for  a  husband.  But  the 
wedded  lovers  became  too  fond  of  each  other, 
and  neglected  their  duty  to  the  god  of  the 
firmament ;  the  sound  of  the  shuttle  was  no 
longer  heard,  and  the  ox  wandered,  unheeded, 
over  the  plains  of  heaven.  Therefore  the  great 
god  was  displeased,  and  he  separated  the  pair. 
They  were  sentenced  to  live  thereafter  apart, 
with  the  Celestial  River  between  them ;  but  it 
was  permitted  them  to  see  each  other  once  a 
year,  on  the  seventh  night  of  the  seventh  moon. 
On  that  night  —  providing  the  skies  be  clear 
—  the  birds  of  heaven  make,  with  their  bodies 
and  wings,  a  bridge  over  the  stream ;  and  by 
means  of  that  bridge  the  lovers  can  meet.  But 
if  there  be  rain,  the  River  of  Heaven  rises,  and 
becomes  so  wide  that  the  bridge  cannot  be 
formed.  So  the  husband  and  wife  cannot  always 
meet,  even  on  the  seventh  night  of  the  seventh 

5 


month ;  it  may  happen,  by  reason  of  bad  wea 
ther,  that  they  cannot  meet  for  three  or  four 
years  at  a  time.  But  their  love  remains  immor- 
tally  young  and  eternally  patient ;  and  they 
continue  to  fulfill  their  respective  duties  each 
day  without  fault,  —  happy  in  their  hope  of 
being  able  to  meet  on  the  seventh  night  of  the 
next  seventh  month. 

To  ancient  Chinese  fancy,  the  Milky 
Way  was  a  luminous  river,  —  the  River  of  Hea 
ven,  —  the  Silver  Stream.  It  has  been  stated  by 
Western  writers  that  Tanabata,  the  Weaving- 
Lady,  is  a  star  in  Lyra ;  and  the  Herdsman, 
her  beloved,  a  star  in  Aquila,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  galaxy.  But  it  were  more  correct 
to  say  that  both  are  represented,  to  Far-East 
ern  imagination,  by  groups  of  stars.  An  old 
Japanese  book  puts  the  matter  thus  plainly : 
"  Kengyu  (the  Ox-Leader)  is  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Heavenly  River,  and  is  represented  by 
three  stars  in  a  row,  and  looks  like  a  man  lead 
ing  an  ox.  Shokujo  (the  Weaving-Lady)  is  on 
the  east  side  of  the  Heavenly  River  :  three  stars 
6 


so  placed  as  to  appear  like  the  figure  of  a  wo 
man  seated  at  her  loom.  .  .  .  The  former  pre 
sides  over  all  things  relating  to  agriculture  ;  the 
latter,  over  all  that  relates  to  women's  work." 

In  an  old  book  called  Zatsuwa-Shin,  it 
is  said  that  these  deities  were  of  earthly  origin. 
Once  in  this  world  they  were  man  and  wife,  and 
lived  in  China ;  and  the  husband  was  called  Is- 
shi,  and  the  wife  Hakuy5.  They  especially  and 
most  devoutly  reverenced  the  Moon.  Every 
clear  evening,  after  sundown,  they  waited  with 
eagerness  to  see  her  rise.  And  when  she  began 
to  sink  towards  the  horizon,  they  would  climb 
to  the  top  of  a  hill  near  their  house,  so  that 
they  might  be  able  to  gaze  upon  her  face  as 
long  as  possible.  Then,  when  she  at  last  disap 
peared  from  view,  they  would  mourn  together. 
At  the  age  of  ninety  and  nine,  the  wife  died  ; 
and  her  spirit  rode  up  to  heaven  on  a  magpie, 
and  there  became  a  star.  The  husband,  who 
was  then  one  hundred  and  three  years  old, 
sought  consolation  for  his  bereavement  in  look 
ing  at  the  Moon  ;  and  when  he  welcomed  her 

7 


rising  and  mourned  her  setting,  it  seemed  to 
him  as  if  his  wife  were  still  beside  him. 

One  summer  night,  Hakuyo — now 
immortally  beautiful  arid  young  —  descended 
from  heaven  upon  her  magpie,  to  visit  her  hus 
band  ;  and  he  was  made  very  happy  by  that  visit. 
But  from  that  time  he  could  think  of  nothing 
but  the  bliss  of  becoming  a  star,  and  joining 
Hakuyo  beyond  the  River  of  Heaven.  At  last 
he  also  ascended  to  the  sky,  riding  upon  a  crow ; 
and  there  he  became  a  star-god.  But  he  could 
not  join  Hakuyo  at  once,  as  he  had  hoped ;  — 
for  between  his  allotted  place  and  hers  flowed 
the  River  of  Heaven  ;  and  it  was  not  permitted 
for  either  star  to  cross  the  stream,  because  the 
Master  of  Heaven  (Ten-Tei)  daily  bathed  in  its 
waters.  Moreover,  there  was  no  bridge.  But 
on  one  day  every  year  —  the  seventh  day  of 
the  seventh  month  —  they  were  allowed  to  see 
each  other.  The  Master  of  Heaven  goes  always 
on  that  day  to  the  Zenhodo,  to  hear  the  preach 
ing  of  the  law  of  Buddha ;  and  then  the  mag 
pies  and  the  crows  make,  with  their  hovering 
bodies  and  outspread  wings,  a  bridge  over  the 
8 


Celestial   Stream ;   and   Hakuyo  crosses   that 
bridge  to  meet  her  husband. 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the 
Japanese  festival  called  Tanabata  was  originally 
identical  with  the  festival  of  the  Chinese  Weav 
ing-Goddess,  Tchi-Niu ;  the  Japanese  holiday 
seems  to  have  been  especially  a  woman's  holi 
day,  from  the  earliest  times ;  and  the  charac 
ters  with  which  the  word  Tanabata  is  written 
signify  a  weaving-girl.  But  as  both  of  the  star- 
deities  were  worshiped  on  the  seventh  of  the 
seventh  month,  some  Japanese  scholars  have 
not  been  satisfied  with  the  common  explanation 
of  the  name,  and  have  stated  that  it  was  origi 
nally  composed  with  the  word  tant  (seed,  or 
grain),  and  the  word  hata  (loom).  Those  who 
accept  this  etymology  make  the  appellation, 
Tanabata-Sama,  plural  instead  of  singular,  and 
render  it  as  "  the  deities  of  grain  and  of  the 
loom,"  —  that  is  to  say,  those  presiding  over 
agriculture  and  weaving.  In  old  Japanese  pic 
tures  the  star-gods  are  represented  according 
to  this  conception  of  their  respective  attributes  ; 
—  Hikoboshi  being  figured  as  a  peasant  lad 

9 


leading  an  ox  to  drink  of  the  Heavenly  River, 
on  the  farther  side  of  which  Orihime  (Tanabata) 
appears,  weaving  at  her  loom.  The  garb  of  both 
is  Chinese  ;  and  the  first  Japanese  pictures  of 
these  divinities  were  probably  copied  from  some 
Chinese  original. 

In  the  oldest  collection  of  Japanese 
poetry  extant,  —  the  Manyoshu,  dating  from 
760  A.  D.,  —  the  male  divinity  is  usually  called 
Hikoboshi,  and  the  female  Tanabata-tsume ; 
but  in  later  times  both  have  been  called  Tana 
bata.  In  Izumo  the  male  deity  is  popularly 
termed  O-Tanabata  Sama,  and  the  female  Me- 
Tanabata  Sama.  Both  are  still  known  by  many 
names.  The  male  is  called  Kaiboshi  as  well  as 
Hikoboshi  and  Kengyu  ;  while  the  female  is 
called  Asagao-hime"  ("Morning  Glory  Prin 
cess  "),'  Ito-ori-hime  ("  Thread- Weaving  Prin 
cess  "),  Momoko-him6  ("  Peach-Child  Prin 
cess  "),  Takimono-hime  (" Incense  Princess"), 
and  Sasagani-hime  ("  Spider  Princess  "). 
Some  of  these  names  are  difficult  to  explain,  — 

1  Asagao  (lit.,  "  morning -face  ")  is  the  Japanese  name  for 
the  beautiful  climbing  plant  which  we  call  "  morning  glory." 
IO 


especially  the  last,  which  reminds  us  of  the 
Greek  legend  of  Arachne.  Probably  the  Greek 
myth  and  the  Chinese  story  have  nothing  what 
ever  in  common ;  but  in  old  Chinese  books 
there  is  recorded  a  curious  fact  which  might 
well  suggest  a  relationship.  In  the  time  of 
the  Chinese  Emperor  Ming  Hwang  (whom  the 
Japanese  call  Genso),  it  was  customary  for  the 
ladies  of  the  court,  on  the  seventh  day  of  the 
seventh  month,  to  catch  spiders  and  put  them 
into  an  incense-box  for  purposes  of  divination. 
On  the  morning  of  the  eighth  day  the  box  was 
opened  ;  and  if  the  spiders  had  spun  thick  webs 
during  the  night  the  omen  was  good.  But  if 
they  had  remained  idle  the  omen  was  bad. 

There  is  a  story  that,  many  ages  ago, 
a  beautiful  woman  visited  the  dwelling  of  a 
farmer  in  the  mountains  of  Izumo,  and  taught 
to  the  only  daughter  of  the  household  an  art 
of  weaving  never  before  known.  One  evening 
the  beautiful  stranger  vanished  away  ;  and  the 
people  knew  that  they  had  seen  the  Weaving- 
Lady  of  Heaven.  The  daughter  of  the  farmer 

ii 


became  renowned  for  her  skill  in  weaving. 
But  she  would  never  marry,  —  because  she  had 
been  the  companion  of  Tanabata-Sama. 

Then  there  is  a  Chinese  story  —  de 
lightfully  vague  —  about  a  man  who  once  made 
a  visit,  unawares,  to  the  Heavenly  Land.  He 
had  observed  that  every  year,  during  the  eighth 
month,  a  raft  of  precious  wood  came  floating  to 
the  shore  on  which  he  lived ;  and  he  wanted 
to  know  where  that  wood  grew.  So  he  loaded 
a  boat  with  provisions  for  a  two  years'  voyage, 
and  sailed  away  in  the  direction  from  which  the 
rafts  used  to  drift.  For  months  and  months 
he  sailed  on,  over  an  always  placid  sea ;  and  at 
last  he  arrived  at  a  pleasant  shore,  where  won 
derful  trees  were  growing.  He  moored  his  boat, 
and  proceeded  alone  into  the  unknown  land, 
until  he  came  to  the  bank  of  a  river  whose 
waters  were  bright  as  silver.  On  the  opposite 
shore  he  saw  a  pavilion  ;  and  in  the  pavilion  a 
beautiful  woman  sat  weaving;  she  was  white 
like  moonshine,  and  made  a  radiance  all  about 
her.  Presently  he  saw  a  handsome  young  pea- 

12 


sant  approaching,  leading  an  ox  to  the  water ; 
and  he  asked  the  young  peasant  to  tell  him  the 
name  of  the  place  and  the  country.  But  the 
youth  seemed  to  be  displeased  by  the  question, 
and  answered  in  a  severe  tone :  "If  you  want 
to  know  the  name  of  this  place,  go  back  to 
where  you  came  from,  and  ask  Gen-Kum-Pei."  1 
So  the  voyager,  feeling  afraid,  hastened  to  his 
boat,  and  returned  to  China.  There  he  sought 
out  the  sage  Gen-Kum-Pei,  to  whom  he  related 
the  adventure.  Gen-Kum-Pei  clapped  his  hands 
for  wonder,  and  exclaimed,  "  So  it  was  you ! 
...  On  the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh  month 
I  was  gazing  at  the  heavens,  and  I  saw  that 
the  Herdsman  and  the  Weaver  were  about  to 
meet ;  —  but  between  them  was  a  new  Star, 
which  I  took  to  be  a  Guest-Star.  Fortunate 
man  !  you  have  been  to  the  River  of  Heaven, 
and  have  looked  upon  the  face  of  the  Weaving- 
Lady  !  ..." 

—  It  is  said  that  the  meeting  of  the 
Herdsman  and  the  Weaver  can  be  observed  by 

1  This  is  the  Japanese  reading  of  the  Chinese  name. 

13 


any  one  with  good  eyes ;  for  whenever  it  oc 
curs  those  stars  burn  with  five  different  colors. 
That  is  why  offerings  of  five  colors  are  made 
to  the  Tanabata  divinities,  and  why  the  poems 
composed  in  their  praise  are  written  upon  paper 
of  five  different  tints. 

But,  as  I  have  said  before,  the  pair 
can  meet  only  in  fair  weather.  If  there  be  the 
least  rain  upon  the  seventh  night,  the  River 
of  Heaven  will  rise,  and  the  lovers  must  wait 
another  whole  year.  Therefore  the  rain  that 
happens  to  fall  on  Tanabata  night  is  called 
Namida  no  Amt,  "  The  Rain  of  Tears." 

When  the  sky  is  clear  on  the  seventh 
night,  the  lovers  are  fortunate ;  and  their  stars 
can  be  seen  to  sparkle  with  delight.  If  the  star 
Kengyu  then  shines  very  brightly,  there  will 
be  great  rice  crops  in  the  autumn.  If  the  star 
Shokujo  looks  brighter  than  usual,  there  will 
be  a  prosperous  time  for  weavers,  and  for  every 
kind  of  female  industry. 

In  old  Japan  it  was  generally  sup 
posed  that  the  meeting  of  the  pair  signified 


good  fortune  to  mortals.  Even  to-day,  in  many 
parts  of  the  country,  children  sing  a  little  song 
on  the  evening  of  the  Tanabata  festival, — 
Tenki  ni  nariP!  ("  O_weather,  be  clear !  ")  In 
the  province  of  Iga  the  young  folks  also  sing 
a  jesting  song  at  the  supposed  hour  of  the 
lovers'  meeting :  — 

Tanabata  ya ! 
Amari  isogaba, 
Korobubeshi !  r 

But  in  the  province  of  Izumo,  which 
is  a  very  rainy  district,  the  contrary  belief  pre 
vails  ;  and  it  is  thought  that  if  the  sky  be  clear 
on  the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh  month,  mis 
fortune  will  follow.  The  local  explanation  of 
this  belief  is  that  if  the  stars  can  meet,  there 
will  be  born  from  their  union  many  evil  deities 
who  will  afflict  the  country  with  drought  and 
other  calamities. 


1  "Hoi    Tanabata!    if    you   hurry   too    much,   you   will 
tumble  down  1  " 


The  festival  of  Tanabata  was  first 
celebrated  in  Japan  on  the  seventh  day  of  the 
seventh  month  of  Tembyo  Shoho  (A.  D.  755). 
Perhaps  the  Chinese  origin  of  the  Tanabata 
divinities  accounts  for  the  fact  that  their  public 
worship  was  at  no  time  represented  by  many 
temples. 

I  have  been  able  to  find  record  of 
only  one  temple  to  them,  called  Tanabata-jinja, 
which  was  situated  at  a  village  called  Hoshiai- 
mura,  in  the  province  of  Owari,  and  surrounded 
by  a  grove  called  Tanabata-mori.1 

Even  before  Tembyo  Shoho,  however, 
the  legend  of  the  Weaving-Maiden  seems  to 
have  been  well  known  in  Japan ;  for  it  is  re 
corded  that  on  the  seventh  night  of  the  seventh 
year  of  Yoro  (A.  D.  723)  the  poet  Yamagami 
no  Okura  composed  the  song :  — 

Amanogawa, 
Ai-muki  tachite", 
Waga  ko'fshi 

1  There  is  no  mention,  however,  of  any  such  village  in 
any  modern  directory. 

16 


Kimi  kimasu  nari  — 
Himo-toki  makina ! r 

It  would  seem  that  the  Tanabata  festi 
val  was  first  established  in  Japan  eleven  hundred 
and  fifty  years  ago,  as  an  Imperial  Court  festival 
only,  in  accordance  with  Chinese  precedent. 
Subsequently  the  nobility  and  the  military 
classes  everywhere  followed  imperial  example ; 
and  the  custom  of  celebrating  the  Hoshi-mat- 
suri,  or  Star-Festival,  —  as  it  was  popularly 
called,  —  spread  gradually  downwards,  until  at 
last  the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh  month  be 
came,  in  the  full  sense  of  the  term,  a  national 
holiday.  But  the  fashion  of  its  observance  va 
ried  considerably  at  different  eras  and  in  differ 
ent  provinces. 

The  ceremonies  at  the  Imperial  Court 
were  of  the  most  elaborate  character:  a  full 
account  of  them  is  given  in  the  Kdji  Kongen,  — 
with  explanatory  illustrations.  On  the  evening 
of  the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh  month,  mat- 

*  For   a  translation   and   explanation   of   this  song,  see 
infra,  page  30. 

17 


tings  were  laid  down  on  the  east  side  of  that 
portion  of  the  Imperial  Palace  called  the  Seir- 
yoden ;  and  upon  these  mattings  were  placed 
four  tables  of  offerings  to  the  Star-deities.  Be 
sides  the  customary  food-offerings,  there  were 
placed  upon  these  tables  rice-wine,  incense,  vases 
of  red  lacquer  containing  flowers,  a  harp  and 
flute,  and  a  needle  with  five  eyes,  threaded  with 
threads  of  five  different  colors.  Black-lacquered 
oil-lamps  were  placed  beside  the  tables,  to  illu 
minate  the  feast.  In  another  part  of  the  grounds 
a  tub  of  water  was  so  placed  as  to  reflect  the 
light  of  the  Tanabata-stars ;  and  the  ladies  of 
the  Imperial  Household  attempted  to  thread  a 
needle  by  the  reflection.  She  who  succeeded 
was  to  be  fortunate  during  the  following  year. 
The  court-nobility  (Kugi)  were  obliged 
to  make  certain  offerings  to  the  Imperial  House 
on  the  day  of  the  festival.  The  character  of 
these  offerings,  and  the  manner  of  their  presen 
tation,  were  fixed  by  decree.  They  were  con 
veyed  to  the  palace  upon  a  tray,  by  a  veiled 
lady  of  rank,  in  ceremonial  dress.  Above  her, 
as  she  walked,  a  great  red  umbrella  was  borne 
18 


by  an  attendant.  On  the  tray  were  placed  seven 
tanzaku  (longilateral  slips  of  fine  tinted  paper 
for  the  writing  of  poems) ;  seven  fatdzu-leaves ;  * 
seven  inkstones ;  seven  strings  of  somen  (a 
kind  of  vermicelli) ;  fourteen  writing-brushes ; 
and  a  bunch  of  yam-leaves  gathered  at  night, 
and  thickly  sprinkled  with  dew.  In  the  palace 
grounds  the  ceremony  began  at  the  Hour  of 
the  Tiger,  —  4  A.  M.  Then  the  inkstones  were 
carefully  washed,  —  prior  to  preparing  the  ink 
for  the  writing  of  poems  in  praise  of  the  Star- 
deities, —  and  each  one  set  upon  a  kudzu-\£&i. 
One  bunch  of  bedewed  yam-leaves  was  then  laid 
upon  every  inkstone  ;  and  with  this  dew,  instead 
of  water,  the  writing-ink  was  prepared.  All  the 
ceremonies  appear  to  have  been  copied  from 
those  in  vogue  at  the  Chinese  court  in  the  time 
of  the  Emperor  Ming-Hwang. 

It  was  not  until  the  time  of  the  Toku- 
gawa  Shogunate  that  the  Tanabata  festival  be 
came  really  a  national  holiday  ;  and  the  popular 
custom  of  attaching  tanzaku  of  different  colors 

1  Pueraria  Thunbergiana. 

19 


to  freshly-cut  bamboos,  in  celebration  of  the 
occasion,  dates  only  from  the  era  of  Bunse'f 
(1818).  Previously  the  tanzaku  had  been  made 
of  a  very  costly  quality  of  paper ;  and  the  old 
aristocratic  ceremonies  had  been  not  less  ex 
pensive  than  elaborate.  But  in  the  time  of  the 
Tokugawa  Shogunate  a  very  cheap  paper  of 
various  colors  was  manufactured  ;  and  the  holi 
day  ceremonies  were  suffered  to  assume  an  in 
expensive  form,  in  which  even  the  poorest 
classes  could  indulge. 

The  popular  customs  relating  to  the 
festival  differed  according  to  locality.  Those  of 
Izumo  —  where  all  classes  of  society,  samurai 
or  common  folk,  celebrated  the  holiday  in  much 
the  same  way  —  used  to  be  particularly  inter 
esting  ;  and  a  brief  account  of  them  will  suggest 
something  of  the  happy  aspects  of  life  in  feudal 
times.  At  the  Hour  of  the  Tiger,  on  the  seventh 
night  of  the  seventh  month,  everybody  was  up ; 
and  the  work  of  washing  the  inkstones  and  writ 
ing-brushes  was  performed.  Then,  in  the  house 
hold  garden,  dew  was  collected  upon  yam-leaves. 
This  dew  was  called  Amanogawa  no  suzuki 
20 


("  drops  from  the  River  of  Heaven  ") ;  and  it 
was  used  to  make  fresh  ink  for  writing  the 
poems  which  were  to  be  suspended  to  bamboos 
planted  in  the  garden.  It  was  usual  for  friends 
to  present  each  other  with  new  inkstones  at  the 
time  of  the  Tanabata  festival;  and  if  there 
were  any  new  inkstones  in  the  house,  the  fresh 
ink  was  prepared  in  these.  Each  member  of 
the  family  then  wrote  poems.  The  adults  com 
posed  verses,  according  to  their  ability,  in  praise 
of  the  Star-deities  ;  and  the  children  either  wrote 
dictation  or  tried  to  improvise.  Little  folk  too 
young  to  use  the  writing-brush  without  help 
had  their  small  hands  guided,  by  parent  or 
elder  sister  or  elder  brother,  so  as  to  shape  on 
a  tanzaku  the  character  of  some  single  word 
or  phrase  relating  to  the  festival,  —  such  as 
" Amanogawa,"  or  "Tanabata,"  or  "Kasasagi 
no  Hashi  "  (the  Bridge  of  Magpies).  In  the 
garden  were  planted  two  freshly-cut  bamboos, 
with  branches  and  leaves  entire,  —  a  male  bam 
boo  (otoko-dake)  and  a  female  bamboo  (pnna- 
dak£).  They  were  set  up  about  six  feet  apart, 
and  to  a  cord  extended  between  them  were  sus- 

21 


pended  paper-cuttings  of  five  colors,  and  skeins 
of  dyed  thread  of  five  colors.  The  paper-cuttings 
represented  upper-robes, — kimono.  To  the  leaves 
and  branches  of  the  bamboos  were  tied  the  tan- 
zaku  on  which  poems  had  been  written  by  the 
members  of  the  family.  And  upon  a  table,  set 
between  the  bamboos,  or  immediately  before 
them,  were  placed  vessels  containing  various 
offerings  to  the  Star-deities, — fruits,  sdmen,  rice- 
wine,  and  vegetables  of  different  kinds,  such  as 
cucumbers  and  watermelons. 

But  the  most  curious  Izumo  custom 
relating  to  the  festival  was  the  Ntmu-nagashi, 
or  "  Sleep- wash-away  "  ceremony.  Before  day 
break  the  young  folks  used  to  go  to  some  stream, 
carrying  with  them  bunches  composed  of  ntmuri- 
leaves  and  bean-leaves  mixed  together.  On 
reaching  the  stream,  they  would  fling  their 
bunches  of  leaves  into  the  current,  and  sing  a 
little  song :  — 

N£mu  wa,  nagare*  yo  ! 
Mame  no  ha  wa,  tomare" ! 

These  verses  might  be  rendered  in  two  ways ; 
22 


because  the  word  ntmu  can  be  taken  in  the 
meaning  either  of  ntmuri  (sleep),  or  of  nemuri-gi 
or  ntmunoki,  the  "  sleep-plant  "  (mimosa),  — 
while  the  syllables  mam^  as  written  in  kana, 
can  signify  either  "bean,"  or  "activity,"  or 
"strength,"  "vigor,"  "health,"  etc.  But  the 
ceremony  was  symbolical,  and  the  intended 
meaning  of  the  song  was  :  — 

Drowsiness,  drift  away ! 
Leaves  of  vigor,  remain  ! 

After  this,  all  the  young  folk  would  jump  into 
the  water,  to  bathe  or  swim,  in  token  of  their 
resolve  to  shed  all  laziness  for  the  coming  year, 
and  to  maintain  a  vigorous  spirit  of  endeavor. 

Yet  it  was  probably  in  Yedo  (now 
T5ky5)  that  the  Tanabata  festival  assumed  its 
most  picturesque  aspects.  During  the  two  days 
that  the  celebration  lasted,  —  the  sixth  and 
seventh  of  the  seventh  month,  —  the  city  used 
to  present  the  appearance  of  one  vast  bamboo 
grove ;  fresh  bamboos,  with  poems  attached  to 
them,  being  erected  upon  the  roofs  of  the 

23 


vL< 


houses.  Peasants  were  in  those  days  able  to 
do  a  great  business  in  bamboos,  which  were 
brought  into  town  by  hundreds  of  wagonloads 
for  holiday  use.  Another  feature  of  the  Ye* do 
festival  was  the  children's  procession,  in  which 
bamboos,  with  poems  attached  to  them,  were 
carried  about  the  city.  To  each  such  bamboo 
there  was  also  fastened  a  red  plaque  on  which 
were  painted,  in  Chinese  characters,  the  names 
of  the  Tanabata  stars. 

But  almost  everywhere,  under  the 
Tokugawa  regime,  the  Tanabata  festival  used 
to  be  a  merry  holiday  for  the  young  people  of 
all  classes,  —  a  holiday  beginning  with  lan 
tern  displays  before  sunrise,  and  lasting  well 
into  the  following  night.  Boys  and  girls  on 
that  day  were  dressed  in  their  best,  and  paid 
visits  of  ceremony  to  friends  and  neighbors. 

—  The  moon  of  the  seventh  month 
used  to  be  called  Tandbata-tsukit  or  "The 
Moon  of  Tanabata."  And  it  was  also  called 
Fumi-tsuki,  or  "  The  Literary  Moon,"  because 
during  the  seventh  month  poems  were  every- 
24 


where    composed   in   praise   of    the    Celestial 
Lovers. 


I  think  that  my  readers  ought  to  be 
interested  in  the  following  selection  of  ancient 
Japanese  poems,  treating  of  the  Tanabata  le 
gend.  All  are  from  the  Manyoshu.  The  Man- 
y  ds  kit,  or  "  Gathering  of  a  Myriad  Leaves,"  is  a 
vast  collection  of  poems  composed  before  the 
middle  of  the  eighth  century.  It  was  compiled 
by  Imperial  order,  and  completed  early  in  the 
ninth  century.  The  number  of  the  poems  which 
it  contains  is  upwards  of  four  thousand;  some 
being  "long  poems"  (naga-ttta),  but  the  great 
majority  tanka,  or  compositions  limited  to 
thirty-one  syllables  ;  and  the  authors  were  cour 
tiers  or  high  officials.  The  first  eleven  tanka 
hereafter  translated  were  composed  by  Yama- 
gami  no  Okura,  Governor  of  the  province  of 
Chikuzen  more  than  eleven  hundred  years  ago. 
His  fame  as  a  poet  is  well  deserved  ;  for  not  a 
little  of  his  work  will  bear  comparison  with 

25 


some  of  the  finer  epigrams  of  the  Greek  An 
thology.  The  following  verses,  upon  the  death 
of  his  little  son  Furubi,  will  serve  as  an  ex 
ample  :  — 

Wakakereba 
M 
^ichi-yuki  shiraji : 

Mahi  wa  semu, 
Shitabe  no  tsukahi 
Ohite-tohorase. 

—  [  As  he  is  so  young,  he  cannot  know  the 
way.  .  .  .  To  the  messenger  of  the  Underworld  1 
will  give  a  bribe,  and  entreat  him,  saying :  "  Do  thou 
kindly  take  the  little  one  upon  thy  back  along  the 
road."] 

Eight  hundred  years  earlier,  the  Greek  poet 
Diodorus  Zonas  of  Sardis  had  written  :  — 

"  Do  tkotiy  who  rawest  the  boat  of  the 
dead  in  the  water  of  this  reedy  lake,  for  Hades, 
stretch  out  thy  hand,  dark  Charon,  to  the  son  of 
Kinyras,  as  he  mounts  the  ladder  by  the  gang 
way,  and  receive  him.  For  his  sandals  will  cause 
the  lad  to  slip,  and  he  fears  to  set  his  feet  naked 
on  the  sand  of  the  shore." 
26 


But  the  charming  epigram  of  Diodo 
rus    was   inspired  only  by  a  myth,  —  for   the 
"  son  of  Kinyras  "  was  no  other  than  Adonis,  — 
whereas  the  verses  of  Okura  express  for  us  the 
yearning  of  a  father's  heart. 

— Though  the  legend  of  Tanabata  was 
indeed  borrowed  from  China,  the  reader  will  find 
nothing  Chinese  in  the  following  compositions. 
They  represent  the  old  classic  poetry  at  its  pur 
est,  free  from  alien  influence  ;  and  they  offer  us 
many  suggestions  as  to  the  condition  of  Japan 
ese  life  and  thought  twelve  hundred  years  ago. 
Remembering  that  they  were  written  before  any 
modern  European  literature  had  yet  taken  form, 
one  is  startled  to  find  how  little  the  Japanese 
written  language  has  changed  in  the  course  of 
so  many  centuries.  Allowing  for  a  few  obsolete 
words,  and  sundry  slight  changes  of  pronunci 
ation,  the  ordinary  Japanese  reader  to-day  can 
enjoy  these  early  productions  of  his  native  muse 
with  about  as  little  difficulty  as  the  English 
reader  finds  in  studying  the  poets  of  the  Eliza 
bethan  era.  Moreover,  the  refinement  and  the 

27 


simple  charm  of  the  Manyoshu  compositions 
have  never  been  surpassed,  and  seldom  equaled, 
by  later  Japanese  poets. 

As  for  the  forty-odd  tanka  which  I  have 
translated,  their  chief  attraction  lies,  I  think,  in 
what  they  reveal  to  us  of  the  human  nature  of 
their  authors.  Tanabata-tsume"  still  represents 
for  us  the  Japanese  wife,  worshipf ully  loving ;  — 
Hikoboshi  appears  to  us  with  none  of  the  lumi 
nosity  of  the  god,  but  as  the  young  Japanese 
husband  of  the  sixth  or  seventh  century,  before 
Chinese  ethical  convention  had  begun  to  exer 
cise  its  restraints  upon  life  and  literature.  Also 
these  poems  interest  us  by  their  expression  of 
the  early  feeling  for  natural  beauty.  In  them 
we  find  the  scenery  and  the  seasons  of  Japan 
transported  to  the  Blue  Plain  of  High  Heaven ; 
—  the  Celestial  Stream  with  its  rapids  and  shal 
lows,  its  sudden  risings  and  clamorings  within 
its  stony  bed,  and  its  water-grasses  bending  in 
the  autumn  wind,  might  well  be  the  Kamo- 
gawa ;  —  and  the  mists  that  haunt  its  shores  are 
the  very  mists  of  Arashiyama.  The  boat  of  Hi 
koboshi,  impelled  by  a  single  oar  working  upon  a 
28 


wooden  peg,  is  not  yet  obsolete  ;  and  at  many  a 
country  ferry  you  may  still  see  the  hiki-fun£  in 
which  Tanabata-tsume  prayed  her  husband  to 
cross  in  a  night  of  storm,  —  a  flat  broad  barge 
pulled  over  the  river  by  cables.  And  maids  and 
wives  still  sit  at  their  doors  in  country  villages, 
on  pleasant  autumn  days,  to  weave  as  Tanabata- 
tsume  wove  for  the  sake  of  her  lord  and  lover. 

—  It  will  be  observed  that,  in  most  of 
these  verses,  it  is  not  the  wife  who  dutifully 
crosses  the  Celestial  River  to  meet  her  husband, 
but  the  husband  who  rows  over  the  stream  to 
meet  the  wife  ;  and  there  is  no  reference  to 
the  Bridge  of  Birds.  .  .  .  As  for  my  render 
ings,  those  readers  who  know  by  experience 
the  difficulty  of  translating  Japanese  verse  will 
be  the  most  indulgent,  I  fancy.  The  Romaji 
system  of  spelling  has  been  followed  (except 
in  one  or  two  cases  where  I  thought  it  better 
to  indicate  the  ancient  syllabication  after  the 
method  adopted  by  Aston) ;  and  words  or 
phrases  necessarily  supplied  have  been  inclosed 
in  parentheses. 

29 


Amanogawa 
Ai-muki  tachite, 

Waga  koYshi 
Kimi  kimasu  nari 
Himo-toki  makena ! 

\He  is  coming,  my  long-desired  lord,  whom 
I  have  been  waiting  to  meet  here,  on  the  banks  of  tht 
River  of  Heaven.  .  .  .  The  moment  of  loosening  my 
girdle  is  nigh  !  *  ] 

Hisakata  no a 
Ama  no  kawase  ni, 

Fun6  uk6t6, 
Koyo'f  ka  kimi  ga 

Agari  kimasan  ? 

1  The  last  line   alludes  to  a  charming  custom  of  which 
mention  is   made  in  the  most  ancient   Japanese  literature. 
Lovers,  ere   parting,  were   wont   to    tie  each   other's  inner 
girdle  (himo]  and  pledge  themselves  to  leave  the  knot  un 
touched  until  the  time  of  their  next  meeting.    This  poem  is 
said  to  have  been  composed  in  the  seventh  year  of  Yoro,  — 
A.  D.  723,  —  eleven  hundred  and  eighty-two  years  ago. 

2  Hisakata-no  is  a  "  pillow-word  "  used  by  the  old  poets  in 
relation  to  celestial  objects  ;  and  it  is  often  difficult  to  trans 
late.    Mr.  Aston  thinks  that  the  literal  meaning  of  hisakata 
is  simply  "  long-hard,"  in  the  sense  of  long-enduring,  —  hisa 

30 


[Over  the  Rapids  of  the  Everlasting 
Heaven,  floating  in  his  boat,  my  lord  will  doubtless 
deign  to  come  to  me  this  very  night.] 

Kaze  kumo  wa 
Futatsu  no  kishi  ni 

Kayoedomo, 
Waga  toho-tsuma  no 
Koto  zo  kayowanu ! 

[  Though  winds  and  clouds  to  either  bank 
may  freely  come  or  go,  between  myself  and  my  far 
away  spouse  no  message  whatever  may  pass :] 

Tsubute  '  ni  mo 
Nage  koshitsu-beki, 

Amanogawa 
Hedatereba  ka  mo, 
Amata  sube-naki! 

(long),  katai  (hard,  or  firm), — so  that  hisakata-no  would 
have  the  meaning  of  "  firmamental."  Japanese  commenta 
tors,  however,  say  that  the  term  is  composed  with  the  three 
words,  hi  (sun),  sasu  (shine),  and  kata  (side); — and  this 
etymology  would  justify  the  rendering  of  hisakata-no  by 
some  such  expression  as  "  light-shedding,"  "  radiance-giv 
ing."  On  the  subject  of  pillow-words,  see  Aston's  Grammar 
of  the  Japanese  Written  Language. 
1  The  old  text  has  tabute. 

31 


\_To  the  opposite  bank  one  might  easily 
fling  a  pebble ;  yet,  being  separated  from  him  by  the 
River  of  Heaven,  alas  !  to  hope  for  a  meeting  (except 
in  autumn)  is  utterly  useless. ,] 

Aki-kaze  no 
Fukinishi  hi  yori 

"  Itsushika  "  to  —  ; 
Waga  machi  ko'fshi 
Kimi  zo  kimasdru. 

[From  the  day  that  the  autumn  wind  be 
gan  to  blow  (I  kept  saying  to  myself),  "  Ah  !  when 
shall  we  meetV —  but  now  my  beloved,  for  whom  I 
waited  and  longed,  has  come  indeed  /] 

Amanogawa 
I  to  kawa-nami  wa 

Tatanedomo, 
Samorai  gatashi  — 
Chikaki  kono  se  wo. 

\_Though  the  waters  of  the  River  of  Hea 
ven  have  not  greatly  risen,  {yet  to  cross)  this  near 
stream  and  to  wait  upon  (my  lord  and  lover)  remains 
impossible^ 
32 


Sode"  furaba 
Mi  mo  kawashitsu-be"ku 

Chika-keredo, 
Wataru  sube"  nashi, 
Aki  nishi  arane"ba. 

\_Though  she  is  so  near  that  the  waving 
of  her  (long)  sleeves  can  be  distinctly  seen,  yet  there  is 
no  way  to  cross  the  stream  before  the  season  of  autumn.} 

Kageroif  no 
Honoka  ni  miet6 

Wakare"naba ;  — 
Motonaya  koi'n 
Aii-toki  made"  wa ! 

[  When  we  were  separated,  I  had  seen 

her  for  a  moment  only,  —  and  dimly  as  one  sees  a  fly- 

. 

ing  midge;  x  now  I  must  vainly  long  for  her  as  before, 

until  time  of  our  next  meeting  !  ] 

Hikoboshi  no 
Tsuma  mukae-bune* 

Kogizurashi,  — 
Ama-no-Kawara  ni 
Kiri  no  tateru  wa. 

1  Kagtrw.  is  an   obsolete  form   of  kagtro,   meaning    an 
ephemera. 

33 


\Methinks  that  Hikoboshi  must  be  row 
ing  his  boat  to  meet  his  wife,  — for  a  mist  (as  of  oar-* 
spray)    is  rising  over  the  course  of  the  Heavenly 
Stream^ 

Kasumi  tatsu 
Ama-no-Kawara  ni, 

Kimi  matsu  to,  — 
Ikayo  hodo  ni 
Mono-suso  nurenu. 

[  While  awaiting  my  lord  on  the  misty 
shore  of  the  River  of  Heaven,  the  skirts  of  my  robe 
have  somehow  become  wet.] 

Amanogawa, 
Mi-tsu  no  nami  oto 

Sawagu-nari : 
Waga  matsu-kimi  no 
Funade-surashi  mo. 

[On  the  River  of  Heaven,  at  the  place 
of  the  august  ferry,  the  sound  of  the  water  has  be 
come  loud :  perhaps  my  long-awaited  lord  will  soon 
be  coming  in  his  boat.} 


34 


Tanabata  no 
Sode  maku  yoii  no 

Akatoki  wa, 
Kawase  no  tazu  wa 
Nakazu  to  mo  yoshi. 

[As  Tanabata  (slumbers}  with  her  long 
sleeves  rolled  up,  until  the  reddening  of  the  dawn,  do 
not,  O  storks  of  the  river-shallows,  awaken  her  by 
your  cries. *] 

Amanogawa 
Kiri-tachi-wataru  : 

Kyo,  kyo,  to  — 
Waga  matsu-koishi 
Funade-surashi ! 

[(She  sees  that)  a  mist  is  spreading  across 
the  River  of  Heaven.  ..."  To-day,  to-day"  she  thinks, 
"  my  long-awaited  lord  will  probably  come  over  in  his 
boat."} 

Amanogawa, 
Yasu  no  watari  ni, 
Fune  ukete  ;  — 

1  Lit,  "not   to   cry   out  (will  be)  good"— but  a  literal 
translation  of  the  poem  is  scarcely  possible. 

35 


Waga  tachi-matsu  to 
Imo  ni  tsug£  koso. 

\By  the  ferry  of  Yasu,  on  the  River  of 
Heaven,  the  boat  is  floating :  I  pray  you  tdl  my 
younger  sister J  that  I  stand  here  and  wait.] 


O-sora  yo 
Kayo  war6  sura, 

Na  ga  yue  ni, 
Amanokawa-ji  no 
Nazumite  zo  koshi. 


[Though  I  (being  a  Star-god)  can  pass 
freely  to  and  fro,  through  the  great  sky,  —yet  to  cross 
over  the  River  of  Heaven,  for  your  sake,  was  weary 
work  indeed 7] 

Yachihoko  no 
Kami  no  mi-yo  yori 

Tomoshi-zuma ;  — 
Hito-shiri  ni  keri 
Tsugiteshi  omoeba. 

1  That  is  to  say,  "wife."  In  archaic  Japanese  the  word 
imo  signified  both  "  wife  "  and  "  younger  sister."  The  term 
might  also  be  rendered  "  darling."  or  "  beloved." 

36 


[From  the  august  Age  of  the  God-of- 
Eight-Thousand- Spears*  she  had  been  my  spouse  in 
secret 2  only  \  yet  now,  because  of  my  constant  longing 
for  her,  our  relation  has  become  known  to  men.} 

Ame  tsuchi  to 
Wakareshi  toki  yo 

Onoga  tsuma ; 
Shika  zo  te  ni  aru 
Aki  matsu  ar6  wa. 

[From  the  time  when  heaven  and  earth 
were  parted,  she  has  been  my  own  wife  ;  — yet,  to  be 
with  her,  I  must  always  wait  till  autumn*] 

Waga  k5ru 
Niho  no  omo  wa 

1  Yachihoko-no-Kami,  who  has  many  other  names,  is  the 
Great  God  of  Izumo,  and  is  commonly  known  by  his  appella 
tion  Oho-kuni-nushi-no-Kami,  or  the  "  Deity-Master-of-the 
Great-Land."   He  is  locally  worshiped  also  as  the  god  of 
marriage,  —  for  which  reason,  perhaps,  the  poet  thus  refers 
to  him. 

2  Or,   "my    seldom -visited   spouse."     The  word   tsuma 
(zuma),  in  ancient  Japanese,  signified  either  wife  or  hus 
band  ;  and  this  poem  might  be  rendered  so  as  to  express 
either  the  wife's  or  the  husband's  thoughts. 

3  By  the  ancient  calendar,  the  seventh  day  of  the  seventh 
month  would  fall  in  the  autumn  season. 

37 


Koyo'f  mo  ka 
Ama-no-kawara  ni 
Ishi-makura  makan. 

[With  my  beloved,  of  the  ruddy-tinted 
cheeks,1  this  night  indeed  will  I  descend  into  the  bed  of 
the  River  of  Heaven,  to  sleep  on  a  pillow  of  stone.} 

Amanogawa. 
Mikomori-gusa  no 

Aki-kaze  ni 
Nabikafu  mireba, 
Toki  kitarurashi. 

[  When  I  see  the  water-grasses  of  the  River 
of  Heaven  bend  in  the  autumn  wind  (/  think  to  my 
self)  :  "  The  time  (for  our  meeting]  seems  to  have 
corned} 

Waga  seko  ni 
Ura-koi  oreba, 

Amanogawa 
Yo-fune  kogi-toyomu 
Kaji  no  'to  kikoyu. 

1  The  literal  meaning  is  "  £/«/-tinted  face,"  —  that  is  to 
say,  a  face  of  which  the  cheeks  and  lips  have  been  tinted  with 
beni,  a  kind  of  rouge. 

38 


[  When  I  feel  in  my  heart  a  sudden  long 
ing  for  my  husband,*  then  on  the  River  of  Heaven  the 
sound  of  the  rowing  of  the  night-boat  is  heard,  and 
the  plash  of  the  oar  resounds^ 

T5-zuma  to 
Tamakura  kawashi 

Netaru  yo  wa, 
Tori-gane  na  naki 
Akdba  aku  to  mo ! 

[In  the  night  when  I  am  reposing  with 
my  (now)  far-away  spouse,  having  exchanged  jewel- 
pillows2  with  her,  let  not  the  cock  crow,  even  though 
the  day  should  dawn.} 

Yorozu-yo  ni 
Tazusawari  it£ 
Ai  mi-domo, 

1  In  ancient  Japanese  the  word  seko  signified  either  husband 
or  elder  brother.    The  beginning  of  the  poem  might  also  be 
rendered  thus :  —  "  When  I  feel  a  secret  longing  for  my  hus 
band,"  etc. 

2  "  To  exchange  jewel-pillows  "  signifies  to  use  each  other's 
arms  for  pillows.    This  poetical  phrase  is  often  used  in  the 
earliest  Japanese  literature.    The  word  for  jewel,  tama,  often 
appears   in   compounds   as    an   equivalent   of    "precious," 
"  dear,"  etc. 

39 


Omoi-sugu-be'ki 
Koi  naranaku  ni. 

[Though  for  a  myriad  ages  we  should 
remain  hand-in-hand  and  face  to  face,  our  exceeding 
love  could  never  come  to  an  end.  (  Why  then  should 
Heaven  deem  it  necessary  to  part  us  ?)] 

Waga  tame  to, 
Tanabata-tsume  no, 

Sono  yado  ni, 
Or£ru  shirotai 
Nui't  ken  kamo? 

[The  white  cloth  which  Tanabata  has 
woven  for  my  sake,  in  that  dwelling  of  hers,  is  now,  1 
think,  being  made  into  a  robe  for  me.] 

Shirakumo  no 
I-ho  e  kakurite" 

To-kedomo, 
Yoi'-sarazu  min 
Imo  ga  atari  wa. 

[Though    she  be  far-away,    and  hidden 
from  me  by  five  hundred  layers  of  white  cloud,  still 
shall  I  turn  my  gaze  each  night  toward  the  dwelling- 
place  of  my  younger  sister  (wife).] 
40 


Aki  sardba 
Kawagiri  tateru 

Amanogawa, 
Kawa  ni  muki-itd 
Kru  l  yo  zo  oki ! 

[  When  autumn  comes,  and  the  river-mists 
spread  over  the  Heavenly  Stream,  I  turn  toward  the 
river,  (and  long)  ;  and  the  nights  of  my  longing  are 
many  /] 

V^ 
Hito-tos6  ni 

Nanuka  no  yo  nomi 

Aii-hito  no  — 
Ko'f  mo  tsuki-neba 
Sayo  zo  ake  ni  keru ! 

[But  once  in  the  whole  year,  and  only 
upon  the  seventh  night  (of  the  seventh  month),  to  meet 
the  beloved  person  —  and  lo  !  The  day  has  dawned 
before  our  mutual  love  could  express  itself  72] 

Toshi  no  koi' 

Koyoi'  tsukushite, 

Asu  yori  wa, 

1  For  kofuru. 

2  Or  "  satisfy  itself."  A  literal  rendering  is  difficult. 

41 


Tsune  no  gotoku  ya« 
Waga  koi'  oran. 

[The  love-longing  of  one  whole  year  hav 
ing  ended  to-night,  every  day  from  to-morrow  I  must 
again  pine  for  him  as  before  /] 

Hikoboshi  to 
Tanabata-tsume  to 

Koyo'f  aii ;  — 
Ama-no-Kawa  to  ni 
Nami  tatsu-na  yum£ ! 

[Hikoboshi  and  Tanabata-tsume  are  to 
meet  each  other  to-night ;  — ye  waves  of  the  River  of 
Heaven,  take  heed  that  ye  do  not  rise/] 

Aki-kaze  no 
Fuki  tadayowasu 

Shirakumo  wa, 
Tanabata-tsum6  no 
Amatsu  hire  kamo  ? 

[Oh  /  that  white  cloud  driven  by  the 
autumn-wind —  can  it  be  the  heavenly  hire  *  of  Tana 
bata-tsume  ?] 

1  At  different  times,  in  the  history  of  Japanese  female 
42 


Shiba-shiba  mo 
Ai  minu  kimi  wo, 

Amanogawa 
Funa-de  haya  seyo 
Yo  no  fukenu  ma  ni. 

[Because  he  is  my  not-often-to-be-met  be 
loved,  hasten  to  row  the  boat  across  the  River  of 
ffeaven  ere  the  night  be  advanced^ 

Amanogawa 
Kiri  tachi-watari 

Hikoboshi  no 
Kaji  no  'to  kikoyu 
Yo  no  fukd-yukeba. 

[Late   in  the  night,  a  mist  spreads  over 

costume,  different  articles  of  dress  were  called  by  this  name. 
In  the  present  instance,  the  hir&  referred  to  was  probably  a 
white  scarf,  worn  about  the  neck  and  carried  over  the  shoul 
ders  to  the  breast,  where  its  ends  were  either  allowed  to  hang 
loose,  or  were  tied  into  an  ornamental  knot.  The  hire  was 
often  used  to  make  signals  with,  much  as  handkerchiefs  are 
waved  to-day  for  the  same  purpose ;  —  and  the  question 
uttered  in  the  poem  seems  to  signify  :  "  Can  that  be  Tana- 
bata  waving  her  scarf  —  to  call  me  ? "  In  very  early  times, 
the  ordinary  costumes  worn  were  white. 

43 


the  River  of  Heaven  ;  and  the  sound  of  the  oar l  of 
Hikoboshi  is  heard.] 

Amanogawa 
Kawa  'to  sayakeshi : 

Hikoboshi  no 
Haya  kogu  fune  no 
Nami  no  sawagi  ka  ? 

[On  the  River  of  Heaven  a  sound  of 
plashing  can  be  distinctly  heard :  is  it  the  sound  of 
the  rippling  made  by  Hikoboshi  quickly  rowing  his 
boat?] 

Kono  yube, 
Furikuru  ame  wa, 

Hikoboshi  no 
Haya  kogu  fund  no 
Kai'  no  chiri  ka  mo. 

[Perhaps  this  evening  shower  is  but  the 
spray  (flung  down)  from  the  oar  of  Hikoboshi,  rowing 
his  boat  in  haste.} 

1  Or,  "  the  creaking  of  the  oar."  (The  word  kaji  to-day 
means  "  helm  " ;  —  the  single  oar,  or  scull,  working  upon  a 
pivot,  and  serving  at  once  for  rudder  and  oar,  being  now 
called  ro.)  The  mist  passing  across  the  Amanogawa  is,  ac 
cording  to  commentators,  the  spray  from  the  Star-god's  oar. 

44 


Waga  tama-doko  wo 

Asu  yori  wa 

Uchi  haraY, 
Kimi  to  inezute 
Hitori  ka  mo  nen ! 

[From  to-morrow,  alas  !  after  having  put 
my  jewel-bed  in  order,  no  longer  reposing  with  my 
lord,  I  must  sleep  alone  /] 

Kaze  fukit6, 
Kawa-nami  tachinu  ;  — 

Hiki-fune  ni 
Watari  mo  kimasd 
Yo  no  fukenu  ma  ni. 
[The  wind  having  risen,  the  waves  of  the 
river  have  become  high  ;  —  this  night  cross  over  in  a 
towboat?  I  pray  thee,  before  the  hour  be  late  /] 

Amanogawa 
Nami  wa  tatsutomo, 

Waga  fund  wa 
Iza  kogi  iden 
Yo  no  fukenu  ma  ni. 
[Even  though  the  waves  of  the  River  of 

1  Lit.  "  pull-boat  "  (hiki-fun£),  —  a  barge  or  boat  pulled  by 
a  rope. 

45 


Heaven  run  high,  I  must  row  over  quickly,  before  it 
becomes  late  in  the  night.} 

Inishie  ni 
Oriteshi  hata  wo  ; 

Kono  yube 
Koromo  ni  nui'te  — 
Kimi  matsu  are  wo  ! 

[Long  ago  I  finished  weaving  the  ma 
terial;  and,  this  evening,  having  finished  sewing  the 
garment  for  him  —  (why  must)  I  still  wait  for  my 
lord?} 

Amanogawa 
Se  wo  hayami  ka  mo  ? 

Nubatama  no 
Yo  wa  fuke  ni  tsutsu, 
Awanu  Hikoboshi ! 

[Is  it  that  the  current  of  the  River  of 

1  Nubatama  no  yo  might  better  be  rendered  by  some  such 
phrase  as  "  the  berry-black  night,"  —  but  the  intended  effect 
would  be  thus  lost  in  translation.  Nubatama-no  (a  "  pillow- 
word  ")  is  written  with  characters  signifying  "  like  the  black 
fruits  of  Karasu-Ogi  ;  "  and  the  ancient  phrase  "  nubatama  no 
yo"  therefore  may  be  said  to  have  the  same  meaning  as  our 
expressions  "  jet-black  night,"  or  "  pitch-dark  night" 

46 


Heaven  (has  become  too)  rapid?    The  jet-black  night 
advances  —  and  Hikoboshi  has  not  come  /] 

Watashi-mori, 
Fune  haya  watase  ;  — 

Hitotose  ni 
Futatabi  kayo 
Kimi  naranaku  ni ! 

[Oh,  ferryman,  make  speed  across  the 
stream! — my  lord  is  not  one  who  can  come  and  go 
twice  in  a  year  /] 

Aki  kaze  no 
Fukinishi  hi  yori, 

Amanogawa 
Kawase  ni  dedachi ;  — 
Matsu  to  tsuge  koso ! 

[On  the  very  day  that  the  autumn-wind 
began  to  blow,  I  set  out  for  the  shallows  of  the  River 
of  Heaven  ;  —  /  pray  you,  tell  my  lord  that  I  am 
waiting  here  still!] 

Tanabata  no 
Funanori  surashi,  — 
Maso-kagami, 

47 


Kiyoki  tsuki-yo  ni 
Kumo  tachi-wataru. 

\Methinks  Tanabata  must  be  coming  in 
her  boat ;  for  a  cloud  is  even  now  passing  across  the 
clear  face  of  the  moon.1]. 

—  And  yet  it  has  been  gravely  as 
serted  that  the  old  Japanese  poets  could  find  no 
beauty  in  starry  skies !  .  .  . 

Perhaps  the  legend  of  Tanabata,  as  it 
was  understood  by  those  old  poets,  can  make 
but  a  faint  appeal  to  Western  minds.  Never 
theless,  in  the  silence  of  transparent  nights,  be 
fore  the  rising  of  the  moon,  the  charm  of  the 
ancient  tale  sometimes  descends  upon  me,  out 
of  the  scintillant  sky,  —  to  make  me  forget  the 
monstrous  facts  of  science,  and  the  stupendous 
horror  of  Space.  Then  I  no  longer  behold  the 
Milky  Way  as  that  awful  Ring  of  the  Cosmos, 

*  Composed  by  the  famous  poet  Otomo  no  Sukune  Ya- 
kamochi,  while  gazing  at  the  Milky  Way,  on  the  seventh 
night  of  the  seventh  month  of  the  tenth  year  of  Tampyo 
(A.  D.  738).  The  pillow-word  in  the  third^line  (maso-kagami) 
is  untranslatable. 


whose  hundred  million  suns  are  powerless  to 
lighten  the  Abyss,  but  as  the  very  Amanogawa 
itself,  —  the  River  Celestial.  I  see  the  thrill  of 
its  shining  stream,  and  the  mists  that  hover 
along  its  verge,  and  the  water-grasses  that  bend 
in  the  winds  of  autumn.  White  Orihime  I  see 
at  her  starry  loom,  and  the  Ox  that  grazes  on 
the  farther  shore  ;  —  and  I  know  that  the  fall 
ing  dew  is  the  spray  from  the  Herdsman's  oar. 
And  the  heaven  seems  very  near  and  warm 
and  human ;  and  the  silence  about  me  is  filled 
with  the  dream  of  a  love  unchanging,  immortal, 
—  forever  yearning  and  forever  young,  and  for 
ever  left  unsatisfied  by  the  paternal  wisdom  of 
the  gods. 


GOBLIN 
POETRY 


GOBLIN 
POETRT 


RECENTLY,  while  groping  about  an 
old  book  shop,  I  found  a  collection  of  Goblin 
Poetry  in  three  volumes,  containing  many  pic 
tures  of  goblins.  The  title  of  the  collection  is 
Kyoka  Hyaku-Monogatari,  or  "  The  Mad  Poetry 
of  the  Hyaku-Monogatari"  The  Hyaku-Mono- 
gatari,  or  "  Hundred  Tales,"  is  a  famous  book 
of  ghost  stories.  On  the  subject  of  each  of 
the  stories,  poems  were  composed  at  different 
times  by  various  persons,  —  poems  of  the  sort 
called  Kyoka,  or  Mad  Poetry,  —  and  these  were 
collected  and  edited  to  form  the  three  volumes 
of  which  I  became  the  fortunate  possessor. 
The  collecting  was  done  by  a  certain  Takumi 
Jingoro,  who  wrote  under  the  literary  pseudo- 

53 


nym  "  Temm&f  R£5jin  "  (Ancient  of  the  Tem- 
me"r  Era).  Takumi  died  in  the  first  year  of 
Bunkyu  (1861),  at  the  good  age  of  eighty  ;  and 
his  collection  seems  to  have  been  published  in 
the  sixth  year  of  Kae"i*  (1853).  The  pictures 
were  made  by  an  artist  called  Masazumi,  who 
worked  under  the  pseudonym  "  Ryosai  Kanjin." 
From  a  prefatory  note  it  appears 
that  Takumi  Jingoro  published  his  collection 
with  the  hope  of  reviving  interest  in  a  once 
popular  kind  of  poetry  which  had  fallen  into 
neglect  before  the  middle  of  the  century.  The 
word  kyoka  is  written  with  a  Chinese  character 
signifying  "  insane  "or  "  crazy  ;  "  and  it  means 
a  particular  and  extraordinary  variety  of  comic 
poetry.  The  form  is  that  of  the  classic  tanka  of 
thirty-one  syllables  (arranged  57577);  —  but 
the  subjects  are  always  the  extreme  reverse  of 
classical ;  and  the  artistic  effects  depend  upon 
methods  of  verbal  jugglery  which  cannot  be 
explained  without  the  help  of  numerous  ex 
amples.  The  collection  published  by  Takumi 
includes  a  good  deal  of  matter  in  which  a 
Western  reader  can  discover  no  merit ;  but  the 
54 


best  of  it  has  a  distinctly  grotesque  quality 
that  reminds  one  of  Hood's  weird  cleverness  in 
playing  with  grim  subjects.  This  quality,  and 
the  peculiar  Japanese  method  of  mingling  the 
playful  with  the  terrific,  can  be  suggested  and 
explained  only  by  reproducing  in  Romaji  the 
texts  of  various  kyoka,  with  translations  and 
notes. 

The  selection  which  I  have  made 
should  prove  interesting,  not  merely  because  it 
will  introduce  the  reader  to  a  class  of  Japanese 
poetry  about  which  little  or  nothing  has  yet 
been  written  in  English,  but  much  more  be 
cause  it  will  afford  some  glimpses  of  a  super 
natural  world  which  still  remains  for  the  most 
part  unexplored.  Without  knowledge  of  Far 
Eastern  superstitions  and  folk-tales,  no  real 
understanding  of  Japanese  fiction  or  drama  or 
poetry  will  ever  become  possible. 

There  are  many  hundreds  of  poems  in 
the  three  volumes  of  the  Kyoka  Hyaku-Mono- 
gatari ;  but  the  number  of  the  ghosts  and  gob 
lins  falls  short  of  the  one  hundred  suggested  by 

55 


the  title.  There  are  just  ninety-five.  I  could 
not  expect  to  interest  my  readers  in  the  whole 
of  this  goblinry,  and  my  selection  includes  less 
than  one  seventh  of  the  subjects.  The  Faceless 
Babe,  The  Long-Tongued  Maiden,  The  Three- 
Eyed  Monk,  The  Pillow-Mover,  The  Thou 
sand  Heads,  The  Acolyte-with-the-Lantern, 
The  Stone-that-Cries-in-the-Night,  The  Goblin- 
Heron,  The  Goblin- Wind,  The  Dragon-Lights, 
and  The  Mountain-Nurse,  did  not  much  impress 
me.  I  omitted  kyoka  dealing  with  fancies  too 
gruesome  for  Western  nerves,  —  such  as  that 
of  the  Obumedori,  —  also  those  treating  of 
merely  local  tradition.  The  subjects  chosen  re 
present  national  rather  than  provincial  folklore, 
—  old  beliefs  (mostly  of  Chinese  origin)  once 
prevalent  throughout  the  country,  and  often  re 
ferred  to  in  its  popular  literature. 

I.  KITSUNfi-BI 

The  Will-o'-the-wisp  is  called  kitsunt- 
bi  ("  fox-fire  "),  because  the  goblin-fox  was  for 
merly  supposed  to  create  it.  In  old  Japanese 
56 


pictures  it  is  represented  as  a  tongue  of  pale 
red  flame,  hovering  in  darkness,  and  shedding 
no  radiance  upon  the  surfaces  over  which  it 
glides. 

To  understand  some  of  the  following 
kyoka  on  the  subject,  the  reader  should  know 
that  certain  superstitions  about  the  magical 
power  of  the  fox  have  given  rise  to  several 
queer  folk-sayings,  —  one  of  which  relates  to 
marrying  a  stranger.  Formerly  a  good  citizen 
was  expected  to  marry  within  his  own  com 
munity,  not  outside  of  it ;  and  the  man  who 
dared  to  ignore  traditional  custom  in  this  re 
gard  would  have  found  it  difficult  to  appease 
the  communal  indignation.  Even  to-day  the 
villager  who,  after  a  long  absence  from  his 
birthplace,  returns  with  a  strange  bride,  is  likely 
to  hear  unpleasant  things  said,  —  such  as : 
"  Wakaranai-mono  wo  hippatt-kita  /  .  .  .  Doko 
no  uma  no  hont  da  ka?"  ("  Goodness  knows 
what  kind  of  a  thing  he  has  dragged  here  after 
him !  Where  did  he  pick  up  that  old  horse- 
bone  ? ")  The  expression  uma  no  hont,  "  old 
horse-bone,"  requires  explanation. 

57 


A  goblin-fox  has  the  power  to  assume 
many  shapes ;  but,  for  the  purpose  of  deceiv 
ing  men,  he  usually  takes  the  form  of  a  pretty 
woman.  When  he  wants  to  create  a  charming 
phantom  of  this  kind,  he  picks  up  an  old  horse- 
bone  or  cow-bone,  and  holds  it  in  his  mouth. 
Presently  the  bone  becomes  luminous ;  and  the 
figure  of  a  woman  defines  about  it,  —  the  figure 
of  a  courtesan  or  singing-girl.  ...  So  the  vil 
lage  query  about  the  man  who  marries  a  strange 
wife,  "  What  old  horse-bone  has  he- picked  up  ?  " 
signifies  really,  "  What  wanton  has  bewitched 
him  ?  "  It  further  implies  the  suspicion  that 
the  stranger  may  be  of  outcast  blood  :  a  certain 
class  of  women  of  pleasure  having  been  chiefly 
recruited,  from  ancient  time,  among  the  daugh 
ters  of  fita  and  other  pariah-people. 

Hi  tomoshite 
Kitsune  no  kwaseshi, 
Asobime  I  wa  — 

*  Asobime,  a  courtesan  :  lit.,  "  sporting-woman."  The  fita 
and  other  pariah  classes  furnished  a  large  proportion  of  these 
women.  The  whole  meaning  of  the  poem  is  as  follows: 
"  See  that  young  wanton  with  her  lantern !  It  is  a  pretty 

58 


Izuka  no  uma  no 
Hon6  ni  ya  aruran ! 

[  —  Ah  the  wanton  (lighting  her  lantern)  ! 
—  so  a  fox-fire  is  kindled  in  the  time  of  fox-transfor 
mation!  .  .  .  Perhaps  she  is  really  nothing  more 
than  an  old  horse-bone  from  somewhere  or  other.  .  .  .] 

Kitsun6-bi  no 
Moyuru  ni  tsukete, 

Waga  tama  no 
Kiyuru  yo  nari 
Kokoro-hoso-michi ! 

[Because  of  that  fox-fire  burning  there, 
the  very  soul  of  me  is  like  to  be  extinguished  in  this 
narrow  path  (or,  in  this  heart-depressing  solitude)  ?~\ 

sight  —  but  so  is  the  sight  of  a  fox,  when  the  creature  kin 
dles  his  goblin-fire  and  assumes  the  shape  of  a  girl.  And 
just  as  your  fox -woman  will  prove  to  be  no  more  than  an 
old  horse-bone,  so  that  young  courtesan,  whose  beauty  de 
ludes  men  to  folly,  may  be  nothing  better  than  an  fita." 

i  The  supposed  utterance  of  a  belated  traveler  frightened 
by  a  will-o'-the-wisp.  The  last  line  allows  of  two  readings. 
Kokoro-hosoi  means  "  timid ;  "  and  hosoi  michi  (hoso-michi) 
means  a  "  narrow  path,"  and,  by  implication,  a  "  lonesome 
path." 


59 


II.  RIKOMBYO 

The  term  Rikombyo  is  composed  with 
the  word  rikon,  signifying  a  "shade,"  "ghost," 
or  "spectre,"  and  the  word  byd,  signifying 
"sickness,"  "disease."  An  almost  literal  ren 
dering  would  be  "  ghost-sickness."  In  Japanese- 
English  dictionaries  you  will  find  the  meaning 
of  Rikombyo  given  as  "  hypochondria  ;  "  and 
doctors  really  use  the  term  in  this  modern  sense. 
But  the  ancient  meaning  was  a  disorder  of  the 
mind  which  produced  a  Double  ;  and  there  is  a 
whole  strange  literature  about  this  weird  dis 
ease.  It  used  to  be  supposed,  both  in  China  and 
Japan,  that  under  the  influence  of  intense  grief 
or  longing,  caused  by  love,  the  spirit  of  the  suf 
fering  person  would  create  a  Double.  Thus  the 
victim  of  Rikombyo  would  appear  to  have  two 
bodies,  exactly  alike;  and  one  of  these  bodies 
would  go  to  join  the  absent  beloved,  while  the 
other  remained  at  home.  (In  my  "  Exotics  and 
Retrospectives,"  under  the  title  "  A  Question  in 
the  Zen  Texts,"  the  reader  will  find  a  typical 
60 


Chinese  story  on  the  subject,  —  the  story  of 
the  girl  Ts'ing.)  Some  form  of  the  primitive 
belief  in  doubles  and  wraiths  probably  exists  in 
every  part  of  the  world ;  but  this  Far  Eastern 
variety  is  of  peculiar  interest  because  the  double 
is  supposed  to  be  caused  by  love,  and  the  sub 
jects  of  the  affliction  to  belong  to  the  gentler 
sex.  .  .  .  The  term  Rikombyo  seems  to  be  ap 
plied  to  the  apparition  as  well  as  to  the  mental 
disorder  supposed  to  produce  the  apparition  :  it 
signifies  "  doppelganger  "  as  well  as  "  ghost-dis 


ease." 


—  With  these  necessary  explanations, 
the  quality  of  the  following  kyoka  can  be  un 
derstood.  A  picture  which  appears  in  the 
Kyoka  Hyaku-Monogatari  shows  a  maid-servant 
anxious  to  offer  a  cup  of  tea  to  her  mistress, 
—  a  victim  of  the  "ghost-sickness."  The  ser 
vant  cannot  distinguish  between  the  original 
and  the  apparitional  shapes  before  her ;  and 
the  difficulties  of  the  situation  are  suggested 
in  the  first  of  the  kyoka  which  I  have  trans 
lated  :  — 

61 


Ko-ya4,  sor6  to  ? 
Ayam6  mo  wakanu 

Rikombyo  : 
Izur£  wo  tsuma  to 
Hiku  zo  wazuraii ! 

[  Which  one  is  this  ?  —  which  one  is  that  ? 
Between  the  two  shapes  of  the  Rikombyo  it  is  not  pos 
sible  to  distinguish.  To  find  out  which  is  the  real  wife 
—  that  will  be  an  affliction  of  spirit  indeed  /] 

Futatsu  naki 
Inochi  nagara  mo 

Kakegae  no 
Karada  no  miyuru  — 
Kage  no  wazurai ! 

{Two  lives  there  certainly  are  not;  —  nev 
ertheless  an  extra  body  is  visible,  by  reason  of  the 
Shadow- Sickness.  ] 

Naga-tabi  no 
Oto  wo  shitai'te 

Mi  futatsu  ni 
Naru  wa  onna  no 
Saru  rikombyo. 
62 


[  Yearning  after  her  far-journeying  hus 
band,  the  woman  has  thus  become  two  bodies,  by 
reason  of  her  ghostly  sickness^ 

Miru  kag6  mo 
Naki  wazurai  no 

Rikombyo,  — 
Omoi  no  hoka  ni 
Futatsu  miru  kage  ! 

[Though  (it  was  said  that),  because  of  her 
ghostly  sickness,  there  was  not  even  a  shadow  of 
her  left  to  be  seen,  — yet,  contrary  to  expectation,  there 
are  two  shadows  of  her  to  be  seen  !  *] 

Rikombyo 
Hito  ni  kakushit£ 
Oku-zashiki, 

*  The  Japanese  say  of  a  person  greatly  emaciated  by  sick 
ness,  miru-kage  mo  naki :  "  Even  a  visible  shadow  of  him  is 
not !  "  —  Another  rendering  is  made  possible  by  the  fact  that 
the  same  expression  is  used  in  the  sense  of  "  unfit  to  be 
seen,  — "  though  the  face  of  the  person  afflicted  with  this 
ghostly  sickness  is  unfit  to  be  seen,  yet  by  reason  of  her  secret 
longing  [for  another  man]  there  are  now  two  of  her  faces  to 
be  seen."  The  phrase  omoino  hoka,  in  the  fourth  line,  means 
"  contrary  to  expectation  ;  "  but  it  is  ingeniously  made  to  sug 
gest  also  the  idea  of  secret  longing. 

63 


Omot6  y  deasanu 
Kage  no  wazurai. 

[Afflicted  with  the  Rikombyo,  she  hides 
tway  from  people  in  the  back  room,  and  never  ap 
proaches  the  front  of  the  house,  —  because  of  her 
Shadow-disease. T] 

Mi  wa  koko  ni ; 
Tama  wa  otoko  ni 

Soi'ne  suru ;  — 
Kokoro  mo  shiraga 
Haha  ga  kaiho. 

[Here  her  body  lies ;  but  her  soul  is  far 
away,  asleep  in  the  arms  of  a  man  ;  —  and  the  white- 
haired  mother,  little  knowing  her  daughter's  heart,  is 
nursing  (only  the  body). z] 

1  There  is  a  curious  play  on  words  in  the  fourth  line.  The 
word  omote,  meaning  "  the  front,"  might,  in  reading,  be 
sounded  as  omotte,  "  thinking."  The  verses  therefore  might 
also  be  thus  translated :  — "  She  keeps  her  real  thoughts 
hidden  in  the  back  part  of  the  house,  and  never  allows  them 
to  be  seen  in  the  front  part  of  the  house,  —  because  she  is 
suffering  from  the  *  Shadow-Sickness '  [of  love]." 

i  There  is  a  double  meaning,  suggested  rather  than  ex 
pressed,  in  the  fourth  line.  The  word  shiraga,  "white-hair," 
suggests  shirazu,  "  not  knowing." 

64 


Tamakushig6 
Futatsu  no  sugata 

Mis&nuru  wa, 
Awas£-kagami  no 
Kag£  no  wazurai. 

\Ift  when  seated  before  her  toilet-stand,  she 
sees  two  faces  reflected  in  her  mirror,  —  that  might 
be  caused  by  the  mirror  doubling  itself  under  the  influ 
ence  of  the  Shadow- Sickness.1] 

III.  0-GAMA 

In  the  old  Chinese  and  Japanese  liter 
ature  the  toad  is  credited  with  supernatural 

*  There  is  in  this  poem  a  multiplicity  of  suggestion  im 
possible  to  render  in  translation.  While  making  her  toilet, 
the  Japanese  woman  uses  two  mirrors  [awasl-kagami]  —  one 
of  which,  a  hand-mirror,  serves  to  show  her  the  appearance  of 
the  back  part  of  her  coiffure,  by  reflecting  it  into  the  larger 
stationary  mirror.  But  in  this  case  of  Rikombyd,  the  woman 
sees  more  than  her  face  and  the  back  of  her  head  in  the  larger 
mirror :  she  sees  her  own  double.  The  verses  indicate  that 
one  of  the  mirrors  may  have  caught  the  Shadow- Sickness, 
and  doubled  itself.  And  there  is  a  further  suggestion  of  the 
ghostly  sympathy  said  to  exist  between  a  mirror  and  the  soul 
of  its  possessor. 

65 


capacities,  —  such  as  the  power  to  call  down 
clouds,  the  power  to  make  rain,  the  power  to 
exhale  from  its  mouth  a  magical  mist  which 
creates  the  most  beautiful  illusions.  Some  toads 
are  good  spirits,  —  friends  of  holy  men ;  and  in 
Japanese  art  a  famous  Rishi  called  "  Gama-Sen- 
nin  "  (Toad  Rishi)  is  usually  represented  with  a 
white  toad  resting  upon  his  shoulder,  or  squat 
ting  beside  him.  Some  toads  are  evil  goblins, 
and  create  phantasms  for  the  purpose  of  luring 
men  to  destruction.  A  typical  story  about  a 
creature  of  this  class  will  be  found  in  my 
"  Kotto,"  entitled  "The  Story  of  Chugoro." 

Me  wa  kagami, 
Kuchi  wa  tarai  no 

Hodo  ni  aku : 
Gama  mo  kesho  no 
Mono  to  koso  shire. 

[The  eye  of  it,  widely  open,  like  a  (round) 
mirror ;  the  mouth  of  it  opening  like  a  wash-basin  — 
by  these  things  you  may  know  that  the  Toad  is  a 
goblin-thing  (or,  that  the  Toad  is  a  toilet  article)^ 

1  There  are  two  Japanese  words,  kesho,  which  in  kana  are 
written  alike  and  pronounced  alike,  though  represented  by 

66 


IV.  SHINKIRO 

The  term  Shinkiro  is  used  in  the 
meaning  of  "  mirage,"  and  also  as  another  name 
for  Horai,  the  Elf -land  of  Far  Eastern  fable. 
Various  beings  in  Japanese  myth  are  credited 
with  power  to  delude  mortals  by  creating  a 
mirage  of  Horai.  In  old  pictures  one  may  see 
a  toad  represented  in  the  act  of  exhaling  from 
its  mouth  a  vapor  that  shapes  the  apparition 
of  Horai. 

But  the  creature  especially  wont  to 
produce  this  illusion  is  the  Hamagtiri,  —  a  Jap 
anese  mollusk  much  resembling  a  clam.  Open 
ing  its  shell,  it  sends  into  the  air  a  purplish 
misty  breath  ;  and  that  mist  takes  form  and 
defines,  in  tints  of  mother-of-pearl,  the  luminous 
vision  of  Horai  and  the  palace  of  the  Dragon- 
King. 

Hamaguri  no 
Kuchi  aku  toki  ya, 

very  different  Chinese  characters.  As  written  in  kana,  the 
term  kesho-no-mono  may  signify  either  "  toilet  articles "  or 
"  a  monstrous  being,''  "  a  goblin." 


Shinkiro ! 
Yo  ni  shirare  ken 
Tatsu-no-miya-hime ! 

[  When  the  hamagitri  opens  its  mouth  — 
lo !  Shinkiro  appears  /  .  .  .  Then  all  can  clearly  see 
the  Maiden- Princess  of  the  Dragon-Palace."] 

Shinkiro  — 
Tatsu  no  miyako  no 

Hinagata  '  wo 
Shio-hi  no  oki  ni 
Misuru  hamaguri ! 

\_Lo  !  in  the  offing  at  ebb-tide,  the  hama 
guri  makes  visible  the  miniature  image  of  Shinkiro 
— -  the  Dragon-Capital!] 


V.  ROKURO-KUBI 

The  etymological  meaning  of  Rokuro- 
Kubi  can  scarcely  be  indicated  by  any  English 
rendering.  The  term  rokuro  is  indifferently 
used  to  designate  many  revolving  objects  — 

1  Hinagata  means  especially  "  a  model,"   "  a   miniature 
copy,"  "  a  drawn  plan,"  etc. 

68 


objects  as  dissimilar  as  a  pulley,  a  capstan,  a 
windlass,  a  turning  lathe,  and  a  potter's  wheel. 
Such  renderings  of  Rokuro-Kubi  as  "  Whirling- 
Neck"  and  "  Rotating-Neck "  are  unsatisfac 
tory  ;  —  for  the  idea  which  the  term  suggests 
to  Japanese  fancy  is  that  of  a  neck  which  re 
volves,  and  lengthens  or  retracts  according  to 
the  direction  of  the  revolution.  .  .  .  As  for  the 
ghostly  meaning  of  the  expression,  a  Rokuro- 
Kubi  is  either  (i)  a  person  whose  neck  length 
ens  prodigiously  during  sleep,  so  that  the  head 
can  wander  about  in  all  directions,  seeking  what 
it  may  devour,  or  (2)  a  person  able  to  detach 
his  or  her  head  completely  from  the  body,  and 
to  rejoin  it  to  the  neck  afterwards.  (About  this 
last  mentioned  variety  of  Rokuro-Kubi  there  is 
a  curious  story  in  my  "Kwaidan,"  translated 
from  the  Japanese.)  In  Chinese  mythology  the 
being  whose  neck  is  so  constructed  as  to  allow 
of  the  head  being  completely  detached  belongs 
to  a  special  class ;  but  in  Japanese  folk-tale  this 
distinction  is  not  always  maintained.  One  of 
the  bad  habits  attributed  to  the  Rokuro-Kubi 
is  that  of  drinking  the  oil  in  night-lamps.  In 


Japanese  pictures  the  RokuroKubi  is  usually 
depicted  as  a  woman ;  and  old  books  tell  us 
that  a  woman  might  become  a  Rokuro-Kubi 
without  knowing  it,  —  much  as  a  somnambulist 
walks  about  while  asleep,  without  being  aware 
of  the  fact.  .  .  .  The  following  verses  about 
the  Rokuro-Kubi  have  been  selected  from  a 
group  of  twenty  in  the  Kyoka  Hyaku-Monoga- 
tari:  — 

Nemidare"  no 

Nagaki  kami  woba 
Furi-wakete, 

Chi  hiro  ni  nobasu 

Rokuro-Kubi  kana ! 

[  Oh  /  .  .  .  Shaking  loose  her  long  hair 
disheveled  by  sleep^  the  Rokuro-Kubi  stretches  her 
neck  to  the  length  of  a  thousand  fathoms  /] 

"  Atama  naki 
Bakemono  nari "  —  to 

Rokuro-Kubi, 
Mite*  odorokan 
Onoga  karada  wo. 

[  Will  not  the  Rokuro-Kubi^  viewing  with 
70 


astonishment  her  own  body  (left  behind)  cry  out,  "  Oh, 
what  a  headless  goblin  have  you  become!"^ 

Tsuka-no-ma  ni 
Hari  wo  tsutawaru, 

Rokuro-Kubi 
Keta-k6ta  warau  — 
Kao  no  kowasa  yo ! 

[Swiftly  gliding  along  the  roof-beam  (and 
among  the  props  of  the  roof),  the  Rokuro-Kubi  laughs 
with  the  sound  of  "  keta-keta  "  —  oh  !  the  fearfulness 
of  her  face  /  Jj 

Roku  shaku  no 
Byobu  ni  nobiru 

Rokuro-Kubi 
Mit6  wa,  go  shaku  no 
Mi  wo  chijimi-keri ! 

1  It  is  not  possible  to  render  all  the  double  meanings  in 
this  composition.  Tsuka-no-ma  signifies  "  in  a  moment "  or 
"quickly";  but  it  may  also  mean  "in  the  space  [ma]  be 
tween  the  roof -props  "  \tsukd\.  "  Keta  "  means  a  cross 
beam,  but  klta-keta  warau  means  to  chuckle  or  laugh  in  a 
mocking  way.  Ghosts  are  said  to  laugh  with  the  sound  of 
keta-keta. 

71 


\_Beholding  the  Rokuro-Kubi  rise  up  above 
the  six-foot  screen,  any  five-foot  person  would  have 
become  shortened  by  fear  (or,  "  the  stature  of  any 
person  five  feet  high  would  have  been  diminished")*] 

VI.  YUKI-ONNA 

The  Snow-Woman,  or  Snow-Spectre, 
assumes  various  forms ;  but  in  most  of  the  old 
folk-tales  she  appears  as  a  beautiful  phantom, 
whose  embrace  is  death.  (A  very  curious  story 
about  her  can  be  found  in  my  "  Kwaidan.") 

Yuki-Onna  — 
Yoso  kushi  mo 

Atsu  kdri ; 
Sasu-kogai  ya 
Kori  naruran. 

\_As  for  the  Snow-  Woman,  —  even  her 
best  comb,  if  I  mistake  not,  is  made  of  thick  ice  ;  and 
her  hair-pin?  too,  is  probably  made  of  ice] 

1  The  ordinary  height  of  a  full  screen  is  six  Japanese  feet. 

2  Kogai  is  the  name  now  given  to  a  quadrangular  bar  of 
tortoise-shell  passed  under  the  coiffure,  which  leaves  only 
the  ends  of  the  bar  exposed.    The  true  hair-pin  is  called 
kanzashi. 

73 


Honrai  wa 
Ku  naru  mono  ka, 

Yuki-Onna  ? 
Yoku-yoku  mireba 
Ichi-butsu  mo  nashi ! 

[  Was  she,  then,  a  delusion  from  the  very 
first,  that  Snow-  Woman, — a  thing  that  vanishes  into 
empty  space  ?  When  I  look  carefully  all  about  me,  not 
one  trace  of  her  is  to  be  seen  /] 

Yo-aker^ba 
Kidtd  yuku  6  wa 

Shirayuki '  no 
Onna  to  mishi  mo 
Yanagi  nari-keri ! 

[Having  vanished  at  daybreak  (that  Snow- 
Woman),  none  could  say  whither  she  had  gone.   But 
what  had  seemed  to  be  a  snow-white  woman  became .,,< 
indeed  a  willow-tree  /] 

i  The  term  shirayuki,  as  here  used,  offers  an  example  of 
what  Japanese  poets  call  Kenyogen,  or  "  double  -purpose 
words."  Joined  to  the  words  immediately  following,  it  makes 
the  phrase  "  white-snow  woman  "  (shirayuki  no  onnd)  ;  — 
united  with  the  words  immediately  preceding,  it  suggests  the 
reading,  "  whither-gone  not-knowing  "  (yuku  £wa  sAira[zu]). 

73 


Yuki-Onna 
Mite  wa  yasathiku, 

Matsu  wo  ori 
Nama-dake  hishigu 
Chikara  ari-keri ! 

[  Though  the  Snow-Woman  appears  to  sight 
slender  and  gentle,  yet,  to  snap  the  pine-trees  asunder 
and  to  crush  the  live  bamboos,  she  must  have  had 
strength.~\ 

Samukdsa  ni 
Zotto  '  wa  sur£do 
Yuki-Onna,  — 

i  Zotto  is  a  difficult  word  to  render  literally :  perhaps 
the  nearest  English  equivalent  is  "  thrilling."  Zotto  suru  sig 
nifies  "  to  cause  a  thrill "  or  "  to  give  a  shock,"  or  "  to 
make  shiver ; "  and  of  a  very  beautiful  person  it  is  said 
"  Zotto-suru  hodo  no  bijin"  —  meaning*  "  She  is  so  pretty 
that  it  gives  one  a  shock  merely  to  look  at  her."  The  term 
yanagi-goshi  ("  willow-loins  ")  in  the  last  line  is  a  common 
expression  designating  a  slender  and  graceful  figure ;  and  the 
reader  should  observe  that  the  first  half  of  the  term  is  in 
geniously  made  to  do  double  duty  here,  — suggesting,  with 
the  context,  not  only  the  grace  of  willow  branches  weighed 
down  by  snow,  but  also  the  grace  of  a  human  figure  that  one 
must  stop  to  admire,  in  spite  of  the  cold. 

74 


Yuki  ore  no  naki 
Yanagi-goshi  ka  mo ! 

[Though  the  Snow- Woman  makes  one 
shiver  by  her  coldness ',  —  ah,  the  willowy  grace  of  her 
form  cannot  be  broken  by  the  snow  (i.  e.  charms  us  in 
spite  of  the  cold)} 


VII.  FUNA-YURfil 

The  spirits  of  the  drowned  are  said 
to  follow  after  ships,  calling  for  a  bucket  or  a 
water-dipper  (hishakit).  To  refuse  the  bucket 
or  the  dipper  is  dangerous  ;  but  the  bottom  of 
the  utensil  should  be  knocked  out  before  the 
request  is  complied  with,  and  the  spectres  must 
not  be  allowed  to  see  this  operation  performed. 
If  an  undamaged  bucket  or  dipper  be  thrown 
to  the  ghosts,  it  will  be  used  to  fill  and  to  sink 
the  ship.  These  phantoms  are  commonly  called 
Funa-Yurei  ("  Ship-Ghosts  "). 

The  spirits  of  those  warriors  of  the 
Heifke"  clan  who  perished  in  the  great  sea-fight 
at  Dan-no-ura,  in  the  year  1185,  are  famous 
among  Funa-Yurei'.  Tai'ra  no  Tomomori,  one 

75 


of  the  chiefs  of  the  clan,  is  celebrated  in  this 
weird  role  :  old  pictures  represent  him,  followed 
by  the  ghosts  of  his  warriors,  running  over  the 
waves  to  attack  passing  ships.  Once  he  men 
aced  a  vessel  in  which  Benke'i,  the  celebrated 
retainer  of  Yoshitsune,  was  voyaging;  and 
Benke'f  was  able  to  save  the  ship  only  by  means 
of  his  Buddhist  rosary,  which  frightened  the 
spectres  away.  .  .  . 

Tomomori  is  frequently  pictured  as  walking 
upon  the  sea,  carrying  a  ship's  anchor  on  his 
back.  He  and  his  fellow-ghosts  are  said  to  have 
been  in  the  habit  of  uprooting  and  making  off 
with  the  anchors  of  vessels  imprudently  moored 
in  their  particular  domain,  —  the  neighborhood 
of  Shimonos6ki. 

Erimoto  ye" 
Mizu  kakeraruru 

Kokochi  seri, 
"  Hishaku  kase"  "  ch5 
Fune  no  kowane"  ni. 

[As  if  the  nape  of  our  necks  had  been 
sprinkled  with  cold  water ;  —  so  we  felt  while  listening 


to  the  voice  of  the  ship-ghost,  saying:  —  "  Lend  me  a 

dipper  /  "  '] 


Yurei  ni 
Kasu-hishaku  yori 

Ichi-hayaku 
Onore  ga  koshi  mo 
Nukeru  sencho. 

\The  loins  of  the  captain  himself  were 
knocked  out  very  much  more  quickly  than  the  bottom 
of  the  dipper  that  was  to  be  given  to  the  ghost.'1] 

Benke'f  no 
Zuzu  no  kuriki  ni 

Tomomori  no 
Sugata  mo  ukamu  — 
Fun6  no  yur^'f. 

[By  the  virtue  of  Benke'fs  rosary,  even 

1  Hishaku,  a  wooden  dipper  with  a  long  handle,  used  to 
transfer  water  from  a  bucket  to  smaller  vessels. 

2  The  common  expression  Koshi  ga  nuktru  (to  have  one's 
loins  taken  out)  means  to  be  unable  to  stand  up  by  reason 
of  fear.   The  suggestion  is  that  while  the  captain  was  trying 
to  knock  out  the  bottom  of  a  dipper,  before  giving  it  to  the 
ghost,  he  fell  senseless  from  fright. 

77 


the  ship-following  ghost —  even  the  apparition  of  To- 
momori  —  is  saved.] 

Yureif  wa 
Ki  naru  Izumi  no 

Hito  nagara, 
Ao-umibara  ni 
Nadote  itsuran  ? 

[Since  any  ghost  must  be  an  inhabitant 
of  the  Yellow  Springs ;  how  should  a  ghost  appear  on 
the  Blue  Sea-Plain  ? '] 

Sono  sugata, 
Ikari  wo  ote, 

Tsuki-matoii 
Fun£  no  hdsaki  ya 
Tomomori  no  r£l ! 

[That  Shape,  cqrrying  the  anchor  on  its 
back,  and  following  after  the  ship  —  now  at  the  bow 
and  now  at  the  stern  —  ah,  the  ghost  of  Tomomori ?\ 

1  The  Underworld  of  the  Dead —  Yomi  or  Kosen  —  is 
called  "  The  Yellow  Springs ;  "  these  names  being  written 
with  two  Chinese  characters  respectively  signifying  "  yellow  " 
and  "  fountain."  A  very  ancient  term  for  the  ocean,  fre 
quently  used  in  the  old  Shinto  rituals,  is  "  The  Blue  Sea- 
Plain." 

*  There  is  an  untranslatable  play  upon  words  in  the  last 


Tsumi  fukaki 
Umi  ni  shidzumishi, 

Yure?  no 

"Ukaman"  tote  ya  ! 
Fune"  ni  sugareru. 

[Crying,  "  Now  perchance  I  shall  be 
saved! "  The  ghost  that  sank  into  the  deep  Sea  of 
Sin  clings  to  the  passing  ship!1} 

two  lines.   The  above  rendering  includes  two  possible  read 
ings. 

1  There  is  more  weirdness  in  this  poem  than  the  above 
rendering  suggests.  The  word  ukaman  in  the  fourth  line  can 
be  rendered  as  "  shall  perhaps  float,"  or  as  "  shall  perhaps 
be  saved"  (in  the  Buddhist  sense  of  salvation),  —  as  there 
are  two  verbs  ukami.  According  to  an  old  superstition,  the 
spirits  of  the  drowned  must  continue  to  dwell  in  the  waters 
until  such  time  as  they  can  lure  the  living  to  destriiction. 
When  the  ghost  of  any  drowned  person  succeeds  in  drown>/\ 
ing  somebody,  it  may  be  able  to  obtain  rebirth,  and  to  leave 
the  sea  forever.  The  exclamation  of  the  ghost  in  this  poem 
really  means,  "  Now  perhaps  I  shall  be  able  to  drown  some 
body."  (A  very  similar  superstition  is  said  to  exist  on  the 
Breton  coast.)  A  common  Japanese  saying  about  a  child  or 
any  person  who  follows  another  too  closely  and  persistently 
is :  Kawa  de  shinda-yurei  no  yona  tsurt-hoshigaru !  — 
"  Wants  to  follow  you  everywhere  like  the  ghost  of  a 
drowned  person."  y 

79 


Ukaman  to 
Fun£  wo  shitaeru 

Yurd'f  wa, 

Shidzumishi  hito  no 
Omoi'  naruran. 

[The  ghosts  following  after  our  ship  in 
their  efforts  to  rise  again  (or,  "  to  be  saved  ")  might 
perhaps  be  the  (last  vengeful)  thoughts  of  drowned 
men.1] 

Urameshiki 
Sugata  wa  sugoki 

Yur&  no, 
Kaji  wo  jama  suru 
Fund  no  Tomomori. 
[  With  vengeful  aspect,  the  grisly  ghost  of 
Tomomori  (rises}  at  the  stern  of  the  ship  to  hinder  the 
play  of  her  rudder?  ] 

1  Here  I  cannot  attempt  to  render  the  various  plays  upon 
words  ;  but  the  term  "  omo'i  "  needs  explanation.   It  means 
"  thought  "  or  "  thoughts  ;  "  but  in  colloquial  phraseology  it 
is  often  used  as  a  euphemism  for  a  dying  person's  last  de 
sire  of  vengeance.    In  various  dramas  it  has  been  used  in 
the  signification  of  "  avenging  ghost."   Thus  the  exclama 
tion,  "  His  thought  has  come  back  !  "  —  in  reference   to   a 
dead  man  —  really  means  :  "  His  angry  ghost  appears  !  " 

2  There  is  a  double  meaning  given  by  the  use  of  the  name 
80 


Ochi-irit6, 
Uwo  no  e*jiki  to 

Nari  ni  ken ;  — 
Funa-yure'f  mo 
Nama-kusaki  kaze*. 

[Having  perished  in  the  sea,  (those  Hezke) 
would  probably  have  become  food  for  fishes.  (Anyhow, 
whenever)  the  ship-following  ghosts  (appear),  the  wind 
has  a  smell  of  raw  fish  /'] 

VIII.  HfilKfiGANI 

Readers  can  find  in  my  "Kotto"  a 
paper  about  the  Hei'ke-Crabs,  which  have  on 
their  upper  shells  various  wrinklings  that  resem 
ble  the  outlines  of  an  angry  face.  At  Shimono- 
s6ki  dried  specimens  of  these  curious  creatures 

Tomomori  in  the  last  line.  Tomo  means  "  the  stern "  of  a 
ship  ;  mori  means  "  to  leak."  So  the  poem  suggests  that  the 
ghost  of  Tomomori  not  only  interferes  with  the  ship's  rudder, 
but  causes  her  to  leak. 

*  Namakusaki-kaze  really  means  a  wind  having  a  "  raw 
stench  ; "  but  the  smell  of  bait  is  suggested  by  the  second 
line  of  the  poem.  A  literal  rendering  is  not  possible  in  this 
case ;  the  art  of  the  composition  being  altogether  sugges 
tive, 

81 


y 


are  offered  for  sale.  .  .  .  The  Heifke-Crabs  are 
said  to  be  the  transformed  angry  spirits  of  the 
He" ike  warriors  who  perished  at  Dan-no-ura. 

Shiwo-hi  ni  wa 
Sei'zoroe  shite, 

Hei'kegani 
Ukiyo  no  sama  wo 
Yoko  ni  niramitsu. 

[Marshaled  (on  the  beach)  at  the  ebb  of 
the  tide,  the  Heike-crabs  obliquely  glare  at  the  appa 
rition  of  this  miserable  world.1} 

Saikai  ni 
Shizumi-nuredomo, 

Hefkegani 
Kora  no  iro  mo 
Yahari  aka-hata. 

[Though  (the  Heike)  long  ago  sank  and 
perished  in  the  Western  Sea,  the  Hekie-crabs  still  dis- 

'  Hi,  the  third  syllable  of  the  first  line  of  the  poem,  does 
duty  for  hi,  signifying  "  ebb,"  and  for  hikata,  "  dry  beach." 
Sfizoroe  is  a  noun  signifying  "  battle-array  "  —  in  the  sense 
of  the  Roman  term  acies  ;  —  and  stizorot  shitt  means  "  drawn 
up  in  battle-array." 
82 


play  upon  their  upper  shells  the  color  of  the  Red 
Standard*} 

Make-ikusa 
Munen  to  mime  ni 

Hasami  ken  ;  — 
Kao  mo  makka  ni 
Naru  Hei'kegani. 

\Because  of  the  pain  of  defeat,  claws  have 
grown  on  their  breasts,  I  think  ;  —  even  the  faces  of 
the  Heike-crabs  have  become  crimson  (with  anger  and 
shame}} 

Mikata  mina 
O  shi-t  subusare"  shi 

Her!ke"gani 
Ikon  wo  mime"  ni 
Hasami  mochikeri. 

[All  the  (Heike)  party  having  been  ut 
terly  crushed,  claws  have  grown  upon  the  breasts  of 
the  Heike-crabs  because  of  the  resentment  in  their 
hearts?  ] 

1  The  ensign  of  the  Heike,  or  Taira  clan  was  red ;  while 
that  of  their  rivals,  the  Genji  or  Minamoto,  was  white. 

2  The  use  of  the  word  hasami  in  the  fifth  line  is  a  very 
good  example  of  kenyogen.   There  is  a  noun  hasami,  mean- 

83 


IX.  YANARI 

Modern  dictionaries  ignore  the  un 
canny  significations  of  the  word  Yanari,  —  only 
telling  us  that  it  means  the  sound  of  the  shak 
ing  of  a  house  during  an  earthquake.  But  the 
word  used  to  mean  the  noise  of  the  shaking  of 
a  house  moved  by  a  goblin ;  and  the  invisible 
shaker  was  also  called  Yanari.  When,  without 
apparent  cause,  some  house  would  shudder  and 
creak  and  groan  in  the  night,  folk  used  to  sup 
pose  that  it  was  being  shaken  from  without  by 
supernatural  malevolence. 

Tokonoma  ni 
Ikeshi  tachiki  mo 
Taore-keri ; 

ing  the  nippers  of  a  crab,  or  a  pair  of  scissors ;  and  there 
is  a  verb  hasami,  meaning  to  harbor,  to  cherish,  or  to  enter 
tain.  (Ikon  wo  hasamu  means  "to  harbor  resentment 
against.")  Reading  the  word  only  in  connection  with  those 
which  follow  it,  we  have  the  phrase  hasami  mochiktri,  "  got 
claws  ;  "  but,  reading  it  with  the  words  preceding,  we  have 
the  expression  ikon  wo  mune  ni  hasami)  "  resentment  in  their 
breasts  nourishing." 

84 


Yanari  ni  yama  no 
Ugoku  kakemono ! 

[Even  the  live  tree  set  in  the  alcove  has 
fallen  down;  and  the  mountains  in  the  hanging  pic 
ture  tremble  to  the  quaking  made  by  the  Yanari  / I  ] 


X.  SAKASA-BASHIRA 

The  term  Sakasa-bashira  (in  these 
kyoka  often  shortened  into  saka-bashira)  liter 
ally  means  "  upside-down  post."  A  wooden  post 
or  pillar,  especially  a  house-post,  should  be  set 
up  according  to  the  original  position  of  the  tree 
from  which  it  was  hewn,  —  that  is  to  say,  with 
the  part  nearest  to  the  roots  downward.  To 
erect  a  house-post  in  the  contrary  way  is  thought 
to  be  unlucky  ;  —  formerly  such  a  blunder  was 
believed  to  involve  unpleasant  consequences  of 
a  ghostly  kind,  because  an  "  upside-down  "  pil 
lar  would  do  malignant  things.  It  would  moan 
and  groan  in  the  night,  and  move  all  its  cracks 

1  The  tokonoma  in  a  Japanese  room  is  a  sort  of  ornamen 
tal  recess  or  alcove,  in  which  a  picture  is  usually  hung,  and 
vases  of  flowers,  or  a  dwarf  tree,  are  placed. 

85 


like  mouths,  and  open  all  its  knots  like  eyes. 
Moreover,  the  spirit  of  it  (for  every  house-post 
has  a  spirit)  would  detach  its  long  body  from 
the  timber,  and  wander  about  the  rooms,  head- 
downwards,  making  faces  at  people.  Nor  was 
this  all.  A  Sakasa-bashira  knew  how  to  make 
all  the  affairs  of  a  household  go  wrong,  —  how 
to  foment  domestic  quarrels,  —  how  to  contrive 
misfortune  for  each  of  the  family  and  the  ser 
vants,  —  how  to  render  existence  almost  in 
supportable  until  such  time  as  the  carpenter's 
blunder  should  be  discovered  and  remedied. 

Saka-bashira 
Tat6shi  wa  tazo  ya  ? 

Kokoro  ni  mo 
Fushi  aru  hito  no 
Shiwaza  naruran. 

[  Who  set  the  house-pillar  upside-down  ? 
Surely  that  must  have  been  the  work  of  a  man  with 
^    a  knot  in  his  heart.] 

Hidayama  wo 
Kiri-kite  tat^shi 

Saka-bashira  — 
86 


Nanno  takumi '  no 
Shiwaza  naruran  ? 

[That  house-pillar  hewn  in  the  mountains 
of  Hida,  and  thence  brought  here  and  erected  upside- 
down  —  what  carpenter's  work  can  it  be  ?  (or,  "for 
what  evil  design  can  this  deed  have  been  done  ?  ")] 

Ue  shita  wo 
Chigaete  tateshi 

Hashira  ni  wa 
Sakasama-goto  no 
Urei'  aranan. 

[As  for  that  house-pillar  mistakenly  planted 
upside-down,  it  will  certainly  cause  adversity  and  sor 
row.2] 

Kab£  ni  mimi 

Arit£,  kik£  to  ka  ? 

Sakashima  ni 

1  The  word  takumi,  as  written  in  kana,  may  signify  either 
"carpenter"  or  "intrigue,"  "evil  plot,"  "wicked  device." 
Thus  two  readings  are  possible.   According  to  one  reading, 
the  post  was  fixed  upside-down  through  inadvertence;  ac 
cording  to  the  other,  it  was  so  fixed  with  malice  prepense. 

2  Lit.,  "  upside-down-matter-sorrow."  Sakasama-goto, "  up 
side-down  affair,"  is  a  commom  expression  for  calamity,  con 
trariety,  adversity,  vexation. 

87 


Tateshi  hashira  ni 
Yanari  sum  oto ! 


[O  Ears  that  be  in  the  wall!1  listen,  will 

ye  ?  to  the  groaning  and  tJie  creaking  of  the  house- 
post  that  was  planted  upside-down  !  ] 

Uri-iye  no 
Aruji  wo  toeba, 

Oto  ante : 

Ware  me  ga  kuchi  wo 
Aku  saka-bashira. 

[  When  I  inquired  for  the  master  of  the 
house  that  was  for  sale,  there  came  to  me  only  a  strange 
sound  by  way  of  reply,  —  the  sound  of  the  upside- 
down  house-post  opening  its  eyes  and  mouth  /»  (/.  e. 
its  craeks).~\ 

1  Alluding  to  the  proverb,  Kabe  ni  mimi  ari  ("  There  are 
ears  in  the  wall  "),  which  signifies  :  "  Be  careful  how  you  talk 
about  other  people,  even  in  private." 

2  There  is  a  pun  in  the  fourth  line  which  suggests  more 
than  even  a  free  translation  can  express.     Ware  means  "  I," 
or  "mine,"  or  "one's  own,"  etc.,  according  to  circumstances; 
and  ware  me  (written  separately)  might  be  rendered  '•  its  own 
eyes."   But  ivareml  (one  word)  means  a  crack,  rent,  split,  or 
fissure.   The  reader  should  remember  that  the  term  saka- 

88 


Omorkiya ! 

Sakasa-bashira  no 

Hashira-kake 
Kakinishit  uta  mo 
Yamai  ari  to  wa  ! 

[Who  could  have  thought  it! — eren  the 
poem  inscribed  upon  the  pillar-tablet,  attached  to  the 
pillar  which  was  planted  upside-down,  has  taken  the 
same  (ghostly)  sickness.l~\ 

XI.  BAKE-JIZO 

The  figure  of  the  Bodhi-sattva  Jizo, 
the  savior  of  children's  ghosts,  is  one  of  the 
most  beautiful  and  humane  in  Japanese  Bud 
dhism.  Statues  of  this  divinity  may  be  seen  in 
almost  every  village  and  by  every  roadside.  But 
some  statues  of  Jizo  are  said  to  do  uncanny 

bashira  means  not  only  "  upside-down  post,"  but  also  the 
goblin  or  spectre  of  the  upside-down  post. 

*  That  is  to  say,  "  Even  the  poem  on  the  tablet  is  up 
side-down," —  all  wrong.  Hashira-kake  ("pillar-suspended 
thing  ")  is  the  name  given  to  a  thin  tablet  of  fine  wood,  in 
scribed  or  painted,  which  is  hung  to  a  post  by  way  of  orna 
ment. 

89 


things  —  such  as  to  walk  about  at  night  in  vari 
ous  disguises.  A  statue  of  this  kind  is  called  a 
Bakt-Jizo?  —  meaning  a  Jizo  that  undergoes 
transformation.  A  conventional  picture  shows 
a  little  boy  about  to  place  the  customary 
child's-offering  of  rice-cakes  before  the  stone 
image  of  Jiz5,  —  not  suspecting  that  the  statue 
moves,  and  is  slowly  bending  down  towards 
him. 

Nanige  naki 

Ishi  no  Jizo  no 
Sugata  sae, 

Yo  wa  osoroshiki 

Mikage  to  zo  naki. 

\Though  the  stone  Jizo  looks  as  if  nothing 
were  the  matter  with  it,  they  say  that  at  night  it 
assumes  an  awful  aspect  (or,  "  Though  this  image  ap 
pears  to  be  a  common  stone  Jizo,  they  say  that  at  night 
it  becomes  an  awful  yizo  of  granite"  2)] 

1  Perhaps  the  term  might  be  rendered  "  Shape-changing 
Jizo."    The  verb  baktru  means  to  change  shape,  to  undergo 
metamorphosis,   to  haunt,   and    many  other  supernatural 
things. 

2  The  Japanese  word  for  granite  is  mikagt ;  and  there  is 
also  an  honorific  term  mikagt,  applied  to  divinities  and  em- 
90 


XII.  UMI-BOZU 

Place  a  large  cuttlefish  on  a  table, 
body  upwards  and  tentacles  downwards  —  and 
you  will  have  before  you  the  grotesque  reality 
that  first  suggested  the  fancy  of  the  Umi-Bozu, 
or  Priest  of  the  Sea.  For  the  great  bald  body 
in  this  position,  with  the  staring  eyes  below, 
bears  a  distorted  resemblance  to  the  shaven 
head  of  a  priest ;  while  the  crawling  tentacles 
underneath  (which  are  in  some  species  united 
by  a  dark  web)  suggests  the  wavering  motion 
of  the  priest's  upper  robe.  .  .  .  The  Umi-Bozu 
figures  a  good  deal  in  the  literature  of  Japanese 
goblinry,  and  in  the  old-fashioned  picture-books. 
He  rises  from  the  deep  in  foul  weather  to  seize 
his  prey. 

perors,  which  signifies  "  august  aspect,"  "  sacred  presence," 
etc.  .  .  .  No  literal  rendering  can  suggest  the  effect,  in  the 
fifth  line,  of  the  latter  reading.  Kagt  signifies  "  shadow," 
"  aspect,"  and  "  power  "  —  especially  occult  power  ;  the  hon 
orific  prefix  mi,  attached  to  names  and  attributes  of  divini 
ties,  may  be  rendered  "  august." 

91 


Ita  hitoe 
Shita  wa  Jigoku  ni, 

Sumizomd  no 
B5zu  no  umi  ni 
Deru  mo  ayashina ! 

[Since  there  is  but  the  thickness  of  a  sin 
gle  plank  (between  the  voyager  and  the  sea),  and  un 
derneath  is  Hell,  'tis  indeed  a  weird  thing  that  a 
black-robed  priest  should  rise  from  the  sea  (or,'"  V  is 
surely  a  marvelous  happening  that"  etc.  \ x)] 

XIII.  FUDA-HEGASHI2 
> 

Homes  are  protected  from  evil  spirits 

by  holy  texts  and  charms.    In  any   Japanese 

1  The  puns  are  too  much  for  me.  .  .  .    Ayashii  means 
"suspicious,"  "marvelous,"  "supernatural,"  "weird,"  "doubt 
ful." —  In  the  first  two  lines  there  is  a  reference   to  the 
Buddhist  proverb  :    Funa-ita  ichi-mai  shita  wa  Jigoku  (" un 
der  the  thickness  of  a  single  ship's-plank  is  Hell").     (See 
my  Gleanings  in  Buddha-Fields,  p.  206,  for  another  reference 
to  this  saying.) 

2  Hegashi  is  the  causative  form  of  the  verb  hegu,  "  to  pull 
off,"  "peel  off,"  "strip  off,"  "split  off."   The   term   Fuda- 
hegashi  signifies    "  Make-peel-off-august-charm   Ghost."    In 
my  Ghostly  Japan  the  reader  can  find  a  good  Japanese  story 
about  a  Fuda-hlgashi. 

92 


village,  or  any  city  by-street,  you  can  see  these 
texts  when  the  sliding-doors  are  closed  at  night : 
they  are  not  visible  by  day,  when  the  sliding-doors 
have  been  pushed  back  into  the  tobukuro.  Such 
texts  are  called  o-fuda  (august  scripts) :  they 
are  written  in  Chinese  characters  upon  strips  of 
white  paper,  which  are  attached  to  the  door  with 
rice-paste ;  and  there  are  many  kinds  of  them. 
Some  are  texts  selected  from  sutras  —  such  as 
the  Sutra  of  Transcendent  Wisdom  (Pragfia- 
Paramita-Hridaya-Sutra),  or  the  Sutra  of  the 
Lotos  of  the  Good  Law  (Saddharma-Pundarika- 
Sutra).  Some  are  texts  from  the  dharanis, — 
which  are  magical.  Some  are  invocations  only, 
indicating  the  Buddhist  sect  of  the  household. 
.  .  .  Besides  these  you  may  see  various  smaller 
texts,  or  little  prints,  pasted  above  or  beside 
windows  or  apertures,  —  some  being  names  of 
Shinto  gods  ;  others,  symbolical  pictures  only, 
or  pictures  of  Buddhas  and  Bodhi-sattvas.  All 
are  holy  charms,  —  o-fuda :  they  protect  the 
houses ;  and  no  goblin  or  ghost  can  enter  by 
night  into  a  dwelling  so  protected,  unless  the  • 
o-fuda  be  removed. 

93 


Vengeful  ghosts  cannot  themselves 
remove  an  o-fuda ;  but  they  will  endeavor  by 
threats  or  promises  or  bribes  to  make  some 
person  remove  it  for  them.  A  ghost  that  wants 
to  have  the  o-fuda  pulled  off  a  door  is  called  a 
Fuda-htgashi. 

Hegasan  to 
Rokuji-no-fuda  wo, 

Yure'f  mo 
Nam'mai  da  to 
Kazoete  zo  mini. 

{.Even  the  ghost  that  would  remove  the 
charms  written  with  six  characters  actually  tries  to 
count  them,  repeating:  "  How  many  sheets  are 
there?"  (or,  repeating,  " Hail  to  thee,  O  Buddha 
Amitabha!"*)} 

*  The  fourth  line  gives  these  two  readings :  — 
Nam'mai  da!  —  "  How  many  sheets  are  there ? " 
Nam  \u\  A  \ni\ida  /—  "  Hail,  O  Amitabha ! " 

The  invocation,  Namu  Amida  Butsu,  is  chiefly  used  by 
members  of  the  great  Shin  sect ;  but  it  is  also  used  by  other 
sects,  and  especially  in  praying  for  the  dead.  While  repeating 
it,  the  person  praying  numbers  the  utterances  upon  his  Bud 
dhist  rosary  ;  and  this  custom  is  suggested  by  the  use  of  the 
word  kazoett)  "  counting." 

94 


Tada  ichi  no 
Kami  no  o-fuda  wa 

Sasuga  ni  mo 
Norik£  naku  to  mo 
H^gashi  kanekeri. 

[Of  the  august  written-charms  of  the  god 
(which  were  pasted  upon  the  walls  of  the  house),  not 
even  one  could  by  any  effort  be  pulled  off,  though  the 
rice-paste  with  which  they  had  been  fastened  was  all 
gone} 

XIV.  FURU-TSUBAKI 

The  old  Japanese,  like  the  old  Greeks, 
had  their  flower-spirits  and  their  hamadryads, 
concerning  whom  some  charming  stories  are 
told.  They  also  believed  in  trees  inhabited  by 
malevolent  beings, — goblin  trees .  Among  other 
weird  trees,  the  beautiful  tsubaki  (Camellia 
Japonica)  was  said  to  be  an  unlucky  tree  ;  — 
this  was  said,  at  least,  of  the  red-flowering 
variety,  the  white-flowering  kind  having  a  better 
reputation  and  being  prized  as  a  rarity.  The 
large  fleshy  crimson  flowers  have  this  curious 
habit :  they  detach  themselves  bodily  from  the 

95 


stem,  when  they  begin  to  fade  ;  and  they  fall 
with  an  audible  thud.  To  old  Japanese  fancy 
the  falling  of  these  heavy  red  flowers  was  like 
the  falling  of  human  heads  under  the  sword  ; 
and  the  dull  sound  of  their  dropping  was  said  to 
be  like  the  thud  made  by  a  severed  head  strik 
ing  the  ground.  Nevertheless  the  tsubaki  seems 
to  have  been  a  favorite  in  Japanese  gardens  be 
cause  of  the  beauty  of  its  glossy  foliage  ;  and  its 
flowers  were  used  for  the  decoration  of  alcoves. 
But  in  samurai  homes  it  was  a  rule  never  to  place 
tsubaki-flowers  in  an  alcove  during  war-time. 

The  reader  will  notice  that  in  the  fol 
lowing  kyoka  —  which,  as  grotesques,  seem  to 
me  the  best  in  the  collection  —  the  goblin-tsu- 
baki  is  called  furu-tsitbaki,  "old  tsubaki."  The 
young  tree  was  not  supposed  to  have  goblin- 
propensities,  —  these  being  developed  only 
after  many  years.  Other  uncanny  trees  —  such 
as  the  willow  and  the  faoki  —  were  likewise 
said  to  become  dangerous  only  as  they  became 
old  ;  and  a  similar  belief  prevailed  on  the  sub 
ject  of  uncanny  animals,  such  as  the  cat  —  in 
nocent  in  kittenhood,  but  devilish  in  age. 
96 


Yo-arashi  ni 
Chishiho  itadaku 

Furu  tsubaki, 
Hota-hota  ochiru 
Hana  no  nama-kubi. 

[When  by  the  night-storm  is  shaken  the 
blood-crowned  and  ancient  tsubaki-tree,  then  one  by 
one  fall  the  gory  heads  of  the  flowers,  (with  the  sound 
of)  hota-hota  ! '] 

Kusa  mo  ki  mo 
Nemureru  koro  no 

Sayo  kaze  ni, 
Mehana  no  ugoku 
Furu-tsubaki  kana ! 

[When  even  the  grass  and  the  trees  are 
sleeping  under  the  faint  wind  of  the  night,  —  then  do 
the  eyes  and  the  noses  of  the  old  tsubaki-tree  (or  "  the 
buds  and  the  flowers  of  the  old  tsubaki-tree  ")  move  /*] 

1  The  word  furu  in  the  third  line  is  made  to  do  double 
duty,  —  as  the  adjective,  furu\i\,  "ancient";  and  as  the 
verb  furu,  "to  shake."  The  old  term  nama-kubi  (lit.,  "raw 
head  ")  means  a  human  head,  freshly-severed,  from  which 
the  blood  is  still  oozing. 

2  Two  Japanese  words  are  written,  in  kana,  as  "  me  "  — 
one  meaning  "a  bud;"  the    other   "eye."    The   syllables 

97 


Tomoshibi  no 
Kagd  ayashige  ni 

Miyenuru  wa 
Abura  shiborishi 
Furu-tsubaki  ka-mo  ? 

[As  for  (the  reason  why)  the  light  of  that 
lamp  appears  to  be  a  Weirdness* — perhaps  the  oil 
was*  expressed  from  (the  nuts  of)  the  ancient  tsu- 
baki  ?] 


"  hana,"  in  like  fashion,  may  signify  either  "  flower "  or 
"  nose."  As  a  grotesque,  this  little  poem  is  decidedly  suc 
cessful. 

1  Ayashige  is  a  noun  formed  from  the  adjective  ayashi, 
"  suspicious,"  "  strange,"  "  supernatural,"  "  doubtful."  The 
word  kagt  signifies  both  "light"  and  "  shadow,"  —  and  is 
here  used  with  double  suggestiveness.  The  vegetable  oil 
used  in  the  old  Japanese  lamps  used  to  be  obtained  from  the 
nuts  of  the  tsubaki.  The  reader  should  remember  that  the 
expression  "  ancient  tsubaki  "  is  equivalent  to  the  expression 
"  goblin-tsubaki,"  —  the  tsubaki  being  supposed  to  turn  into 
a  goblin-tree  only  when  it  becomes  old. 


—  Nearly  all  the  stories  and  folk- 
beliefs  about  which  these  kyoka  were  written 
seem  to  have  come  from  China ;  and  most  of 
the  Japanese  tales  of  tree-spirits  appear  to  have 
had  a  Chinese  origin.  As  the  flower-spirits  and 
hamadryads  of  the  Far  East  are  as  yet  little 
known  to  Western  readers,  the  following  Chi 
nese  story  may  be  found  interesting. 

There  was  a  Chinese  scholar  —  called, 
in  Japanese  books,  To  no  Busanshi — who  was 
famous  for  his  love  of  flowers.  He  was  particu 
larly  fond  of  peonies,  and  cultivated  them  with 
great  skill  and  patience.1 

One  day  a  very  comely  girl  came  to 
the  house  of  Busanshi,  and  begged  to  be  taken 
into  his  service.  She  said  that  circumstances 
obliged  her  to  seek  humble  employment,  but 
that  she  had  received  a  literary  education,  and 

i  The  tree-peony  (botan)  is  here  referred  to, —a  flower 
much  esteemed  in  Japan.  It  is  said  to  have  been  introduced 
from  China  during  the  eighth  century ;  and  no  less  than  five 
hundred  varieties  of  it  are  now  cultivated  by  Japanese 
gardeners. 

99 


therefore  wished  to  enter,  if  possible,  into  the 
service  of  a  scholar.  Busanshi  was  charmed  by 
her  beauty,  and  took  her  into  his  household 
without  further  questioning.  She  proved  to  be 
much  more  than  a  good  domestic :  indeed,  the 
nature  of  her  accomplishments  made  Busanshi 
suspect  that  she  had  been  brought  up  in  the 
court  of  some  prince,  or  in  the  palace  of  some 
great  lord.  She  displayed  a  perfect  knowledge 
of  the  etiquette  and  the  polite  arts  which  are 
taught  only  to  ladies  of  the  highest  rank  ;  and 
she  possessed  astonishing  skill  in  calligraphy,  in 
painting,  and  in  every  kind  of  poetical  composi 
tion.  Busanshi  presently  fell  in  love  with  her, 
and  thought  only  of  how  to  please  her.  When 
scholar-friends  or  other  visitors  of  importance 
came  to  the  house,  he  would  send  for  the  new 
maid  that  she  might  entertain  and  wait  upon 
his  guests ;  and  all  who  saw  her  were  amazed 
by  her  grace  and  charm. 

One  day  Busanshi  received  a  visit 
from  the  great  Teki-Shin-Ketsu,  a  famous 
teacher  of  moral  doctrine  ;  and  the  maid  did 
not  respond  to  her  master's  call.  Busanshi  went 
100 


himself  to  seek  her,  being  desifous'that  Teki- 
Shin-Ketsu  should  see  her  and  admire  her  ;  but 
she  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  After  having 
searched  the  whole  house  in  vain,  Busanshi  was 
returning  to  the  guest-room  when  he  suddenly 
caught  sight  of  the  maid,  gliding  soundlessly 
before  him  along  a  corridor.  He  called  to  her, 
and  hurried  after  her.  Then  she  turned  half- 
round,  and  flattened  herself  against  the  wall 
like  a  spider ;  and  as  he  reached  her  she  sank 
backwards  into  the  wall,  so  that  there  remained 
of  her  nothing  visible  but  a  colored  shadow,  — 
level  like  a  picture  painted  on  the  plaster.  But 
the  shadow  moved  its  lips  and  eyes,  and  spoke 
to  him  in  a  whisper,  saying  :  — 

"  Pardon  me  that  I  did  not  obey  your 
august  call !  .  .  .  I  am  not  a  mankind-person  ; 
-  I  am  only  the  Soul  of  a  Peony.  Because 
you  loved  peonies  so  much,  I  was  able  to  take 
human  shape,  and  to  serve  you.  But  now  this 
Teki-Shin-Ketsu  has  come,  —  and  he  is  a  per 
son  of  dreadful  propriety,  —  and  I  dare  not 
keep  this  form  any  longer.  ...  I  must  return 
to  the  place  from  which  I  came." 

101 


'  TKeri  she  sank  back  into  the  wall,  and 
vanished  altogether:  there  was  nothing  where 
she  had  been  except  the  naked  plaster.  And 
Busanshi  never  saw  her  again. 

This   story   is  written  in  a   Chinese 
book  which  the  Japanese  call  "  Kai-ten-i-ji." 


102 


44  ULTIMATE 
QUESTIONS'* 


"ULTIMATE 
QUESTIONS" 


A  MEMORY  of  long  ago.  ...  I  am 
walking  upon  a  granite  pavement  that  rings  like 
iron,  between  buildings  of  granite  bathed  in  the 
light  of  a  cloudless  noon.  Shadows  are  short 
and  sharp :  there  is  no  stir  in  the  hot  bright 
air ;  and  the  sound  of  my  footsteps,  strangely 
loud,  is  the  only  sound  in  the  street.  .  .  .  Sud 
denly  an  odd  feeling  comes  to  me,  with  a  sort 
of  tingling  shock,  —  a  feeling,  or  suspicion,  of 
universal  illusion.  The  pavement,  the  bulks  of 
hewn  stone,  the  iron  rails,  and  all  things  visible, 
are  dreams !  Light,  color,  form,  weight,  solid 
ity  —  all  sensed  existences  —  are  but  phantoms 
of  being,  manifestations  only  of  one  infinite 
ghostliness  for  which  the  language  of  man  has 
not  any  word.  .  .  . 

105 


This  experience  had  been  produced  by 
study  of  the  first  volume  of  the  Synthetic  Philo 
sophy,  which  an  American  friend  had  taught  me 
how  to  read.  I  did  not  find  it  easy  reading ; 
partly  because  I  am  a  slow  thinker,  but  chiefly 
because  my  mind  had  never  been  trained  to  sus 
tained  effort  in  such  directions.  To  learn  the 
"  First  Principles  "  occupied  me  many  months  : 
no  other  volume  of  the  series  gave  me  equal 
trouble.  I  would  read  one  section  at  a  time,  — 
rarely  two,  —  never  venturing  upon  a  fresh  sec 
tion  until  I  thought  that  I  had  made  sure  of  the 
preceding.  Very  cautious  and  slow  my  progress 
was,  like  that  of  a  man  mounting,  for  the  first 
time,  a  long  series  of  ladders  in  darkness. 
Reaching  the  light  at  last,  I  caught  a  sudden 
new  vision  of  things,  —  a  momentary  percep 
tion  of  the  illusion  of  surfaces,  —  and  from 
that  time  the  world  never  again  appeared  to 
me  quite  the  same  as  it  had  appeared  before. 

—  This  memory  of  more  than  twenty 
years  ago,  and  the  extraordinary  thrill  of  the 
moment,  were  recently  revived  for  me  by  the 
106 


reading  of  the  essay  "Ultimate  Questions," 
in  the  last  and  not  least  precious  volume  be 
queathed  us  by  the  world's  greatest  thinker. 
The  essay  contains  his  final  utterance  about  the 
riddle  of  life  and  death,  as  that  riddle  presented 
itself  to  his  vast  mind  in  the  dusk  of  a  lifetime 
of  intellectual  toil.  Certainly  the  substance  of 
what  he  had  to  tell  us  might  have  been  inferred 
from  the  Synthetic  Philosophy ;  but  the  par 
ticular  interest  of  this  last  essay  is  made  by 
the  writer's  expression  of  personal  sentiment 
regarding  the  problem  that  troubles  all  deep 
thinkers.  Perhaps  few  of  us  could  have  re 
mained  satisfied  with  his  purely  scientific  posi 
tion.  Even  while  fully  accepting  his  declara 
tion  of  the  identity  of  the  power  that  "  wells  up 
in  us  under  the  form  of  consciousness  "  with 
that  Power  Unknowable  which  shapes  all  things, 
most  disciples  of  the  master  must  have  longed 
for  some  chance  to  ask  him  directly,  "  But  how 
do  you  feel  in  regard  to  the  prospect  of  per 
sonal  dissolution  ?  "  And  this  merely  emotional 
question  he  has  answered  as  frankly  and  as 
fully  as  any  of  us  could  have  desired,  —  perhaps 

107 


even  more  frankly.  "Old  people,"  he  remarks 
apologetically,  "  must  have  many  reflections  in 
common.  Doubtless  one  which  I  have  now 
in  mind  is  very  familiar.  For  years  past,  when 
watching  the  unfolding  buds  in  the  spring, 
there  has  arisen  the  thought,  'Shall  I  ever 
again  see  the  buds  unfold  ?  Shall  I  ever  again 
be  awakened  at  dawn  by  the  song  of  the 
thrush  ? '  Now  that  the  end  is  not  likely  to  "be 
long  postponed,  there  results  an  increasing 
tendency  to  meditate  upon  ultimate  questions." 
.  .  .  Then  he  tells  us  that  these  ultimate  ques 
tions  — "  of  the  How  and  the  Why,  of  the 
Whence  and  the  Whither "  —  occupy  much 
more  space  in  the  minds  of  those  who  cannot 
accept  the  creed  of  Christendom,  than  the  cur 
rent  conception  fills  in  the  minds  of  the  major 
ity  of  men.  The  enormity  of  the  problem  of 
existence  becomes  manifest  only  to  those  who 
have  permitted  themselves  to  think  freely  and 
widely  and  deeply,  with  all  such  aids  to  thought 
as  exact  science  can  furnish  ;  and  the  larger 
the  knowledge  of  the  thinker,  the  more  press 
ing  and  tremendous  the  problem  appears,  and 
108 


the  more  hopelessly  unanswerable.  To  Herbert 
Spencer  himself  it  must  have  assumed  a  vast- 
ness  beyond  the  apprehension  of  the  average 
mind ;  and  it  weighed  upon  him  more  and  more 
inexorably  the  nearer  he  approached  to  death. 
He  could  not  avoid  the  conviction  —  plainly 
suggested  in  his  magnificent  Psychology  and  in 
other  volumes  of  his  great  work  —  that  there 
exists  no  rational  evidence  for  any  belief  in 
the  continuance  of  conscious  personality  after 
death  :  — 

"After  studying  primitive  beliefs,  and 
finding  that  there  is  no  origin  for  the  idea  of  an 
after-life,  save  the  conclusion  which  the  savage 
draws,  from  the  notion  suggested  by  dreams,  of  a 
wandering  double  which  comes  back  on  awaking, 
and  which  goes  away  for  an  indefinite  time  at 
death; — and  after  contemplating  the  inscrutable 
relation  between  brain  and  consciousness,  and 
finding  that  we  can  get  no  evidence  of  the  exist 
ence  of  the  last  without  the  activity  of  the  first,  — 
we  seem  obliged  to  relinquish  the  thought  that  con 
sciousness  continues  after  physical  organization  has 
become  inactive." 

109 


In  this  measured  utterance  there  is  no 
word  of  hope ;  but  there  is  at  least  a  carefully 
stated  doubt,  which  those  who  will  may  try  to 
develop  into  the  germ  of  a  hope.  The  guarded 
phrase,  "  we  seem  obliged  to  relinquish,"  cer 
tainly  suggests  that,  although  in  the  present 
state  of  human  knowledge  we  have  no  reason 
to  believe  in  the  perpetuity  of  consciousness, 
some  larger  future  knowledge  might  help  us  to 
a  less  forlorn  prospect.  From  the  prospect  as 
it  now  appears  even  this  mightiest  of  thinkers 
recoiled :  — 

..."  But  it  seems  a  strange  and  repug 
nant  conclusion  that  with  the  cessation  of  con 
sciousness  at  death  there  ceases  to  be  any  know 
ledge  of  having  existed.  With  his  last  breath  it 
becomes  to  each  the  same  thing  as  though  he  had 
never  lived. 

"And  then  the  consciousness  itself  — 
what  is  it  during  the  time  that  it  continues  ?  And 
what  becomes  of  it  when  it  ends?  We  can  only 
infer  that  it  is  a  specialized  and  individualized 
form  of  that  Infinite  and  Eternal  Energy  which 
transcends  both  our  knowledge  and  our  imagina- 
IIO 


tion ;  and  that  at  death  its  elements  lapse  into  that 
Infinite  and  Eternal  Energy  whence  they  were 
derived." 

—  With  his  last  breath  it  becomes  to 
each  the  same  thing  as  though  he  /tad  never 
lived  ?  To  the  individual,  perhaps  —  surely  not 
to  the  humanity  made  wiser  and  better  by  his 
labors.  .  .  .  But  the  world  must  pass  away : 
will  it  thereafter  be  the  same  for  the  universe 
as  if  humanity  had  never  existed  ?  That  might 
depend  upon  the  possibilities  of  future  inter 
planetary  communication.  .  .  .  But  the  whole 
universe  of  suns  and  planets  must  also  perish : 
thereafter  will  it  be  the  same  as  if  no  intelli 
gent  life  had  ever  toiled  and  suffered  upon 
those  countless  worlds  ?  We  have  at  least  the 
certainty  that  the  energies  of  life  cannot  be  de 
stroyed,  and  the  strong  probability  that  they 
will  help  to  form  another  life  and  thought  in 
universes  yet  to  be  evolved.  .  .  .  Nevertheless, 
allowing  for  all  imagined  possibilities,  —  grant 
ing  even  the  likelihood  of  some  inapprehensible 
relation  between  all  past  and  all  future  condi- 

iii 


tioned-being,  —  the  tremendous  question  re 
mains  :  What  signifies  the  whole  of  apparitional 
existence  to  the  Unconditioned  ?  As  flickers 
of  sheet-lightning  leave  no  record  in  the  night, 
so  in  that  Darkness  a  million  billion  trillion 
universes  might  come  and  go,  and  leave  no 
trace  of  their  having  been. 

To  every  aspect  of  the  problem  Her 
bert  Spencer  must  have  given  thought ;  but  he 
has  plainly  declared  that  the  human  intellect, 
as  at  present  constituted,  can  offer  no  solution. 
The  greatest  mind  that  this  world  has  yet  pro 
duced  —  the  mind  that  systematized  all  human 
knowledge,  that  revolutionized  modern  science, 
that  dissipated  materialism  forever,  that  re 
vealed  to  us  the  ghostly  unity  of  all  existence, 
that  reestablished  all  ethics  upon  an  immutable 
and  eternal  foundation,  —  the  mind  that  could 
expound  with  equal  lucidity,  and  by  the  same 
universal  formula,  the  history  of  a  gnat  or  the 
history  of  a  sun  —  confessed  itself,  before  the 
Riddle  of  Existence,  scarcely  less  helpless  than 
the  mind  of  a  child. 

112 


But  for  me  the  supreme  value  of  this 
last  essay  is  made  by  the  fact  that  in  its  pathetic 
statement  of  uncertainties  and  probabilities  one 
can  discern  something  very  much  resembling 
a  declaration  of  faith.  Though  assured  that  we 
have  yet  no  foundation  for  any  belief  in  the 
persistence  of  consciousness  after  the  death 
of  the  brain,  we  are  bidden  to  remember  that 
the  ultimate  nature  of  consciousness  remains 
inscrutable.  Though  we  cannot  surmise  the 
relation  of  consciousness  to  the  unseen,  we 
are  reminded  that  it  must  be  considered  as  a 
manifestation  of  the  Infinite  Energy,  and  that 
its  elements,  if  dissociated  by  death,  will  return 
to  the  timeless  and  measureless  Source  of  Life. 
.  .  .  Science  to-day  also  assures  us  that  what 
ever  existence  has  been  —  all  individual  life 
that  ever  moved  in  animal  or  plant,  —  all  feel 
ing  and  thought  that  ever  stirred  in  human 
consciousness  —  must  have  flashed  self-record 
beyond  the  sphere  of  sentiency ;  and  though 
we  cannot  know,  we  cannot  help  imagining  that 
the  best  of  such  registration  may  be  destined 
to  perpetuity.  On  this  latter  subject,  for  ob- 


vious  reasons,  Herbert  Spencer  has  remained 
silent ;  but  the  reader  may  ponder  a  remark 
able  paragraph  in  the  final  sixth  edition  of  the 
"First  Principles,"  —  a  paragraph  dealing  with 
the  hypothesis  that  consciousness  may  belong 
to  the  cosmic  ether.  This  hypothesis  has  not 
been  lightly  dismissed  by  him ;  and  even  while 
proving  its  inadequacy,  he  seems  to  intimate 
that  it  may  represent  imperfectly  some  truth 
yet  inapprehensible  by  the  human  mind  :  — 

"  The  only  supposition  having  consistency 
is  that  that  in  which  consciousness  inheres  is  the 
all-pervading  ether.  This  we  know  can  be  affected 
by  molecules  of  matter  in  motion,  and  conversely 
can  affect  the  motions  of  molecules; — as  witness 
the  action  of  light  on  the  retina.  In  pursuance 
of  this  supposition  we  may  assume  that  the  ether, 
which  pervades  not  only  all  space  but  all  matter, 
is,  under  special  conditions  in  certain  parts  of  the 
nervous  system,  capable  of  being  affected  by  the 
nervous  changes  in  such  way  as  to  result  in  feeling, 
and  is  reciprocally  capable  under  these  conditions 
of  affecting  the  nervous  changes.  But  if  we  accept 
this  explanation,  we  must  assume  that  the  poten- 
114 


tiality  of  feeling  is  universal,  and  that  the  evolution 
of  feeling  in  the  ether  takes  place  only  under  the 
extremely  complex  conditions  occurring  in  certain 
nervous  centres.  This,  however,  is  but  a  semblance 
of  an  explanation,  since  we  know  not  what  the 
ether  is,  and  since,  by  confession  of  those  most 
capable  of  judging,  no  hypothesis  that  has  been 
framed  accounts  for  all  its  powers.  Such  an  expla 
nation  may  be  said  to  do  no  more  than  symbolize 
the  phenomena  by  symbols  of  unknown  natures." 
—  ["  First  Principles,"  §  71  c,  definitive  edition  of 
1900.] 

—  "  Inscrutable  is  this  complex  conscious 
ness  which  has  slowly  evolved  out  of  infantine 
vacuity  —  consciousness  which,  in  other  shapes, 
is  manifested  by  animate  beings  at  large  —  con 
sciousness  which,  during  the  development  of  every 
creature,  makes  its  appearance  out  of  what  seems 
unconscious  matter;  suggesting  the  thought  that 
consciousness,  in  some  rudimentary  form,  is  omnipre 
sent"  I 

—  Of  all  modern  thinkers,  Spencer 
was  perhaps  the  most  careful  to  avoid  giving 
encouragement  to  any  hypothesis  unsupported 

1  Autobiography,  vol.  ii,  p.  470. 


by  powerful  evidence.  Even  the  simple  sum 
of  his  own  creed  is  uttered  only,  with  due 
reservation,  as  a  statement  of  three  probabili 
ties  :  that  consciousness  represents  a  spe 
cialized  and  individualized  form  of  the  infinite 
Energy ;  that  it  is  dissolved  by  death ;  and 
that  its  elements  then  return  to  the  source  of 
all  being.  As  for  our  mental  attitude  toward 
the  infinite  Mystery,  his  advice  is  plain.  We 
must  resign  ourselves  to  the  eternal  law,  and 
endeavor  to  vanquish  our  ancient  inheritance 
of  superstitious  terrors,  remembering  that, 
"merciless  as  is  the  Cosmic  process  worked 
out  by  an  Unknown  Power,  yet  vengeance  is 
nowhere  to  be  found  in  it."  * 


In  the  same  brief  essay  there  is  an 
other  confession  of  singular  interest,  —  an 
acknowledgment  of  the  terror  of  Space.  To 
even  the  ordinary  mind,  the  notion  of  infinite 

1  Facts  and  Comments,  p.  201. 

116 


Space,  as  forced  upon  us  by  those  monstrous 
facts  of  astronomy  which  require  no  serious 
study  to  apprehend,  is  terrifying ;  —  I  mean  the 
mere  vague  idea  of  that  everlasting  Night  into 
which  the  blazing  of  millions  of  suns  can  bring 
neither  light  nor  warmth.  But  to  the  intellect 
of  Herbert  Spencer  the  idea  of  Space  must 
have  presented  itself  after  a  manner  incom 
parably  more  mysterious  and  stupendous.  The 
mathematician  alone  will  comprehend  the  full 
significance  of  the  paragraph  dealing  with  the 
Geometry  of  Position  and  the  mystery  of  space- 
relations,  —  or  the  startling  declaration  that 
"  even  could  we  penetrate  the  mysteries  of  ex 
istence,  there  would  remain  still  more  tran 
scendent  mysteries."  But  Herbert  Spencer  tells 
us  that,  apart  from  the  conception  of  these 
geometrical  mysteries,  the  problem  of  naked 
Space  itself  became  for  him,  in  the  twilight  of 
his  age,  an  obsession  and  a  dismay  :  — 

..."  And  then  comes  the  thought  of  this 
universal  matrix  itself,  anteceding  alike  creation 
or  evolution,  whichever  be  assumed,  and  infinitely 

117 


transcending  both,  alike  in  extent  and  duration ; 
since  both,  if  conceived  at  all,  must  be  conceived 
as  having  had  beginnings,  while  Space  had  no 
beginning.  The  thought  of  this  blank  form  of 
existence  which,  explored  in  all  directions  as  far  as 
imagination  can  reach,  has,  beyond  that,  an  unex 
plored  region  compared  with  which  the  part  which 
imagination  has  traversed  is  but  infinitesimal, — 
the  thought  of  a  Space  compared  with  which  our 
immeasurable  sidereal  system  dwindles  to  a  point 
is  a  thought  too  overwhelming  to  be  dwelt  upon. 
Of  late  years  the  consciousness  that  without  origin 
or  cause  infinite  Space  has  ever  existed  and  must 
ever  exist,  produces  in  me  a  feeling  from  which  I 
shrink." 

How  the  idea  of  infinite  Space  may 
affect  a  mind  incomparably  more  powerful  than 
my  own,  I  cannot  know ;  —  neither  can  I  di 
vine  the  nature  of  certain  problems  which  the 
laws  of  space-relation  present  to  the  geometri 
cian.  But  when  I  try  to  determine  the  cause  of 
the  horror  which  that  idea  evokes  within  my 
own  feeble  imagination,  I  am  able  to  distin 
guish  different  elements  of  the  emotion,  —  par- 
118 


ticular  forms  of  terror  responding  to  particular 
ideas  (rational  and  irrational)  suggested  by  the 
revelations  of  science.  One  feeling  —  perhaps 
the  main  element  of  the  horror  —  is  made  by 
the  thought  of  being  prisoned  forever  and  ever 
within  that  unutterable  Viewlessness  which 
occupies  infinite  Space.  , 

Behind  this  feeling  there  is  more 
than  the  thought  of  eternal  circumscription ;  — 
there  is  also  the  idea  of  being  perpetually  pene 
trated,  traversed,  thrilled  by  the  Nameless ;  — 
there  is  likewise  the  certainty  that  no  least 
particle  of  innermost  secret  Self  could  shun 
the  eternal  touch  of  It ;  —  there  is  furthermore 
the  tremendous  conviction  that  could  the  Self 
of  me  rush  with  the  swiftness  of  light,  —  with 
more  than  the  swiftness  of  light,  —  beyond  all 
galaxies,  beyond  durations  of  time  so  vast  that 
Science  knows  no  sign  by  which  their  magni 
tudes  might  be  indicated,  —  and  still  flee  on 
ward,  onward,  downward,  upward,  —  always, 
always,  —  never  could  that  Self  of  me  reach 
nearer  to  any  verge,  never  speed  farther  from 
any  centre.  For,  in  that  Silence,  all  vastitude 

119 


and  height  and  depth  and  time  and  direction 
are  swallowed  up  :  relation  therein  could  have 
no  meaning  but  for  the  speck  of  my  fleeting 
consciousness,  —  atom  of  terror  pulsating  alone 
through  atomless,  soundless,  nameless,  illimita 
ble  potentiality. 

And  the  idea  of  that  potentiality 
awakens  another  quality  of  horror,  —  the  horror 
of  infinite  Possibility.  For  this  Inscrutable  that 
pulses  through  substance  as  if  substance  were 
not  at  all,  —  so  subtly  that  none  can  feel  the 
flowing  of  its  tides,  yet  so  swiftly  that  no  life 
time  would  suffice  to  count  the  number  of  the 
oscillations  which  it  makes  within  the  fraction 
of  one  second,  —  thrills  to  us  out  of  endless 
ness  ;  —  and  the  force  of  infinity  dwells  in  its 
lightest  tremor ;  the  weight  of  eternity  presses 
behind  its  faintest  shudder.  To  that  phantom- 
Touch,  the  tinting  of  a  blossom  or  the  dissipa 
tion  of  a  universe  were  equally  facile :  here  it 
caresses  the  eye  with  the  charm  and  illusion 
of  color ;  there  it  bestirs  into  being  a  cluster 
of  giant  suns.  All  that  human  mind  is  capa 
ble  of  conceiving  as  possible  (and  how  much 
1 20 


also  that  human  mind  must  forever  remain  in 
capable  of  conceiving?)  may  be  wrought  any 
where,  everywhere,  by  a  single  tremor  of  that 
Abyss.  .  .  . 

Is  it  true,  as  some  would  have  us 
believe,  that  the  fear  of  the  extinction  of  self 
is  the  terror  supreme  ?  .  .  .  For  the  thought 
of  personal  perpetuity  in  the  infinite  vortex  is 
enough  to  evoke  sudden  trepidations  that  no 
tongue  can  utter,  —  fugitive  instants  of  a  hor 
ror  too  vast  to  enter  wholly  into  consciousness  : 
a  horror  that  can  be  endured  in  swift  black 
glimpsings  only.  And  the  trust  that  we  are  one 
with  the  Absolute  —  dim  points  of  thrilling  in 
the  abyss  of  It  —  can  prove  a  consoling  faith 
only  to  those  who  find  themselves  obliged  to 
think  that  consciousness  dissolves  with  the 
crumbling  of  the  brain.  ...  It  seems  to  me 
that  few  (or  none)  dare  to  utter  frankly  those 
stupendous  doubts  and  fears  which  force  mor 
tal  intelligence  to  recoil  upon  itself  at  every 
fresh  attempt  to  pass  the  barrier  of  the  Know- 
able.  Were  that  barrier  unexpectedly  pushed 

121 


back,  —  were  knowledge  to  be   suddenly  and 
vastly  expanded  beyond  its  present  limits,  — 
perhaps  we  should  find  ourselves  unable  to  en 
dure  the  revelation.  .  .   . 

Mr.Percival  Lowell's  astonishing  book, 
"  Mars,"  sets  one  to  thinking  about  the  results 
of  being  able  to  hold  communication  with  the 
habitants  of  an  older  and  a  wiser  world,  —  some 
race  of  beings  more  highly  evolved  than  we, 
both  intellectually  and  morally,  and  able  to  in 
terpret  a  thousand  mysteries  that  still  baffle  our 
science.  Perhaps,  in  such  event,  we  should  not 
find  ourselves  able  to  comprehend  the  methods, 
even  could  we  borrow  the  results,  of  wisdom 
older  than  all  our  civilization  by  myriads  or  hun 
dreds  of  myriads  of  years.  But  would  not  the 
sudden  advent  of  larger  knowledge  from  some 
elder  planet  prove  for  us,  by  reason  of  the  pre 
sent  moral  condition  of  mankind,  nothing  less 
than  a  catastrophe  ?  —  might  it  not  even  result 
in  the  extinction  of  the  human  species  ?  .  .  . 

The  rule  seems  to  be  that  the  dis 
semination  of  dangerous  higher  knowledge,  be- 

122 


fore  the  masses  of  a  people  are  ethically  pre 
pared  to  receive  it,  will  always  be  prevented  by 
the  conservative  instinct ;  and  we  have  reason 
to  suppose  (allowing  for  individual  exceptions) 
that  the  power  to  gain  higher  knowledge  is  de 
veloped  only  as  the  moral  ability  to  profit  by 
such  knowledge  is  evolved.  I  fancy  that  if  the 
power  of  holding  intellectual  converse  with 
other  worlds  could  now  serve  us,  we  should 
presently  obtain  it.  But  if,  by  some  astonishing 
chance,  —  as  by  the  discovery,  let  us  suppose, 
of  some  method  of  ether-telegraphy,  —  this 
power  were  prematurely  acquired,  its  exercise 
would  in  all  probability  be  prohibited.  .  .  . 
Imagine,  for  example,  what  would  have  hap 
pened  during  the  Middle  Ages  to  the  person 
guilty  of  discovering  means  to  communicate 
with  the  people  of  a  neighboring  planet !  As 
suredly  that  inventor  and  his  apparatus  and  his 
records  would  have  been  burned ;  every  trace 
and  memory  of  his  labors  would  have  been 
extirpated.  Even  to-day  the  sudden  discovery 
of  truths  unsupported  by  human  experience, 
the  sudden  revelation  of  facts  totally  opposed  to 

123 


existing  convictions,  might  evoke  some  frantic 
revival  of  superstitious  terrors,  —  some  reli 
gious  panic-fury  that  would  strangle  science, 
and  replunge  the  world  in  mental  darkness  for 
a  thousand  years. 


124 


THE 

MIRROR 
MAIDEN 


THE 

MIRROR 
MAIDEN 


IN  the  period  of  the  Ashikaga  Sho- 
gunate  the  shrine  of  Ogawachi-My6jin,at  Mina- 
mi-Ise,  fell  into  decay ;  and  the  daimyo  of  the 
district,  the  Lord  Kitahatake,  found  himself  una 
ble,  by  reason  of  war  and  other  circumstances,  to 
provide  for  the  reparation  of  the  building.  Then 
the  Shintd  priest  in  charge,  Matsumura  Hyogo, 
sought  help  at  Kyoto  from  the  great  daimyo 
Hosokawa,  who  was  known  to  have  influence 
with  the  Shogun.  The  Lord  Hosokawa  received 
the  priest  kindly,  and  promised  to  speak  to  the 
Shogun  about  the  condition  of  Ogawachi-Myojin. 
But  he  said  that,  in  any  event,  a  grant  for  the 
restoration  of  the  temple  could  not  be  made 
without  due  investigation  and  considerable  de- 

127 


lay;  and  he  advised  Matsumura  to  remain  in 
the  capital  while  the  matter  was  being  arranged. 
Matsumura  therefore  brought  his  family  to 
Kyoto,  and  rented  a  house  in  the  old  Kyogoku 
quarter. 

This  house,  although  handsome  and 
spacious,  had  been  long  unoccupied.  It  was  said 
to  be  an  unlucky  house.  On  the  northeast  side 
of  it  there  was  a  well ;  and  several  former  ten 
ants  had  drowned  themselves  in  that  well,  with 
out  any  known  cause.  But  Matsumura,  being  a 
Shinto  priest,  had  no  fear  of  evil  spirits ;  and 
he  soon  made  himself  very  comfortable  in  his 
new  home. 

In  the  summer  of  that  year  there  was 
a  great  drought.  For  months  no  rain  had  fallen 
in  the  Five  Home-Provinces ;  the  river-beds 
dried  up,  the  wells  failed ;  and  even  in  the  cap 
ital  there  was  a  dearth  of  water.  But  the  well 
in  Matsumura's  garden  remained  nearly  full ; 
and  the  water  —  which  was  very  cold  and  clear, 
with  a  faint  bluish  tinge  —  seemed  to  be  sup 
plied  by  a  spring.  During  the  hot  season  many 
128 


people  came  from  all  parts  of  the  city  to  beg 
for  water  ;  and  Matsumura  allowed  them  to 
draw  as  much  as  they  pleased.  Nevertheless 
the  supply  did  not  appear  to  be  diminished, 

But  one  morning  the  dead  body  of  a 
young  servant,  who  had  been  sent  from  a  neigh 
boring  residence  to  fetch  water,  was  found  float 
ing  in  the  well.  No  cause  for  a  suicide  could  be 
imagined  ;  and  Matsumura,  remembering  many 
unpleasant  stories  about  the  well,  began  to  sus 
pect  some  invisible  malevolence.  He  went  to 
examine  the  well,  with  the  intention  of  having 
a  fence  built  around  it ;  and  while  standing  there 
alone  he  was  startled  by  a  sudden  motion  in  the 
water,  as  of  something  alive.  The  motion  soon 
ceased  ;  and  then  he  perceived,  clearly  reflected 
in  the  still  surface,  the  figure  of  a  young  wo 
man,  apparently  about  nineteen  or  twenty  years 
of  age.  She  seemed  to  be  occupied  with  her 
toilet :  he  distinctly  saw  her  touching  her  lips 
with  btni.*  At  first  her  face  was  visible  in  pro 
file  only  ;  but  presently  she  turned  towards  him 
and  smiled.  Immediately  he  felt  a  strange  shock 

1  A  kind  of  rouge,  now  used  only  to  color  the  lips. 

129 


at  his  heart,  and  a  dizziness  came  upon  him 
like  the  dizziness  of  wine,  and  everything  be 
came  dark,  except  that  smiling  face,  —  white 
and  beautiful  as  moonlight,  and  always  seeming 
to  grow  more  beautiful,  and  to  be  drawing  him 
down  —  down  —  down  into  the  darkness.  But 
with  a  desperate  effort  he  recovered  his  will 
and  closed  his  eyes.  When  he  opened  them 
again,  the  face  was  gone,  and  the  light  had  re 
turned  ;  and  he  found  himself  leaning  down 
over  the  curb  of  the  well.  A  moment  more  of 
that  dizziness,  —  a  moment  more  of  that  daz 
zling  lure,  —  and  he  would  never  again  have 
looked  upon  the  sun.  .  .  . 

Returning  to  the  house,  he  gave 
orders  to  his  people  not  to  approach  the  well 
under  any  circumstances,  or  allow  any  person  to 
draw  water  from  it.  And  the  next  day  he  had 
a  strong  fence  built  round  the  well. 

About  a  week  after  the  fence  had 
been  built,  the  long  drought  was  broken  by  a 
great  rain-storm,  accompanied  by  wind  and 
lightning  and  thunder,  —  thunder  so  tremendous 
130 


that  the  whole  city  shook  to  the  rolling  of  it, 
as  if  shaken  by  an  earthquake.  For  three  days 
and  three  nights  the  downpour  and  the  light 
nings  and  the  thunder  continued  ;  and  the 
Kamogawa  rose  as  it  had  never  risen  before, 
carrying  away  many  bridges.  During  the  third 
night  of  the  storm,  at  the  Hour  of  the  Ox, 
there  was  heard  a  knocking  at  the  door  of  the 
priest's  dwelling,  and  the  voice  of  a  woman 
pleading  for  admittance.  But  Matsumura, 
warned  by  his  experience  at  the  well,  forbade 
his  servants  to  answer  the  appeal.  He  went 
himself  to  the  entrance,  and  asked,  — 

"Who  calls?" 

A  feminine  voice  responded  :  — 

"  Pardon  !  it  is  I,  —  Yayoi  I '  ...  I 
have  something  to  say  to  Matsumura  Sama, — 
something  of  great  moment.  Please  open  I  "  .  .  . 

Matsumura  half  opened  the  door,  very 
cautiously  ;  and  he  saw  the  same  beautiful  face 
that  had  smiled  upon  him  from  the  well.  But  it 
was  not  smiling  now  :  it  had  a  very  sad  look. 

"  Into  my  house  you  shall  not  come," 

i  This  name,  though  uncommon,  is  still  in  use. 


the  priest  exclaimed.  "  You  are  not  a  human 
being,  but  a  Well-Person.  .  .  .  Why  do  you 
thus  wickedly  try  to  delude  and  destroy 
people  ?  " 

The  Well-Person  made  answer  in  a 
voice  musical  as  a  tinkling  of  jewels  (tama-wo- 
korogasu-koe) :  — 

"  It  is  of  that  very  matter  that  I  want 
to  speak.  ...  I  have  never  wished  to  injure 
human  beings.  But  from  ancient  time  a  Poison- 
Dragon  dwelt  in  that  well.  He  was  the  Master 
of  the  Well ;  and  because  of  him  the  well  was 
always  full.  Long  ago  I  fell  into  the  water 
there,  and  so  became  subject  to  him ;  and  he 
had  power  to  make  me  lure  people  to  death, 
in  order  that  he  might  drink  their  blood.  But 
now  the  Heavenly  Ruler  has  commanded  the 
Dragon  to  dwell  hereafter  in  the  lake  called 
Torii-no-Ik6,  in  the  Province  of  Shinshu ;  and 
the  gods  have  decided  that  he  shall  never  be 
allowed  to  return  to  this  city.  So  to-night, 
after  he  had  gone  away,  I  was  able  to  come 
out,  to  beg  for  your  kindly  help.  There  is  now 
very  little  water  in  the  well,  because  of  the 
132 


Dragon's  departure ;  and  if  you  will  order 
search  to  be  made,  my  body  will  be  found 
there.  I  pray  you  to  save  my  body  from  the 
well  without  delay  ;  and  I  shall  certainly  return 
your  benevolence."  .  .  . 

So  saying,  she  vanished  into  the  night. 

Before  dawn  the  tempest  had  passed  ; 
and  when  the  sun  arose  there  was  no  trace  of 
cloud  in  the  pure  blue  sky.  Matsumura  sent  at 
an  early  hour  for  well-cleaners  to  search  the 
well.  Then,  to  everybody's  surprise,  the  well 
proved  to  be  almost  dry.  It  was  easily  cleaned  ; 
and  at  the  bottom  of  it  were  found  some  hair- 
ornaments  of  a  very  ancient  fashion,  and  a 
metal  mirror  of  curious  form  —  but  no  trace  of 
any  body,  animal  or  human. 

Matsumura  imagined,  however,  that 
the  mirror  might  yield  some  explanation  of  the 
mystery;  for  every  such  mirror  is  a  weird 
thing,  having  a  soul  of  its  own,  —  and  the  soul 
of  a  mirror  is  feminine.  This  mirror,  which 
seemed  to  be  very  old,  was  deeply  crusted  with 
scurf.  But  when  it  had  been  carefully  cleaned, 

133 


by  the  priest's  order,  it  proved  to  be  of  rare  and 
costly  workmanship ;  and  there  were  wonder 
ful  designs  upon  the  back  of  it, — also  several 
characters.  Some  of  the  characters  had  be 
come  indistinguishable  ;  but  there  could  still  be 
discerned  part  of  a  date,  and  ideographs  signi 
fying,  "third  month,  the  third  day''  Now  the 
third  month  used  to  be  termed  Yayoi  (meaning, 
the  Month  of  Increase) ;  and  the  third  day  of 
the  third  month,  which  is  a  festival  day,  is  still 
called  Yayoi-no-sekku.  Remembering  that  the 
Well-Person  called  herself  "  Yayoi,"  Matsumura 
felt  almost  sure  that  his  ghostly  visitant  had 
been  none  other  than  the  Soul  of  the  Mirror. 

He  therefore  resolved  to  treat  the 
mirror  with  all  the  consideration  due  to  a  Spirit. 
After  having  caused  it  to  be  carefully  repolished 
and  resilvered,  he  had  a  case  of  precious  wood 
made  for  it,  and  a  particular  room  in  the  house 
prepared  to  receive  it.  On  the  evening  of  the 
same  day  that  it  had  been  respectfully  depos 
ited  in  that  room,  Yayoi  herself  unexpectedly 
appeared  before  the  priest  as  he  sat  alone  in  his 
study.  She  looked  even  more  lovely  than  be- 
134 


fore ;  but  the  light  of  her  beauty  was  now  soft 
as  the  light  of  a  summer  moon  shining  through 
pure  white  clouds.  After  having  humbly  saluted 
Matsumura,  she  said  in  her  sweetly  tinkling 
voice  :  — 

"  Now  that  you  have  saved  me  from 
solitude  and  sorrow,  I  have  come  to  thank  you. 
...  I  am  indeed,  as  you  supposed,  the  Spirit 
of  the  Mirror.  It  was  in  the  time  of  the  Em 
peror  Saimei  that  I  was  first  brought  here  from 
Kudara ;  and  I  dwelt  in  the  august  residence 
until  the  time  of  the  Emperor  Saga,  when  I 
was  augustly  bestowed  upon  the  Lady  Kamo, 
Naishinno  of  the  Imperial  Court.1  Thereafter 
I  became  an  heirloom  in  the  House  of  Fuji- 
wara,  and  so  remained  until  the  period  of 
Hogen,  when  I  was  dropped  into  the  well. 
There  I  was  left  and  forgotten  during  the  years 

1  The  Emperor  Saimei  reigned  from  655  to  662  (A.  D.)  ; 
the  Emperor  Saga  from  810  to  842.  —  Kudara  was  an 
ancient  kingdom  in  southwestern  Korea,  frequently  men 
tioned  in  early  Japanese  history.  —  A  Naishinno  was  of 
Imperial  blood.  In  the  ancient  court-hierarchy  there  were 
twenty-five  ranks  or  grades  of  noble  ladies; — that  of 
Naishinno  was  seventh  in  order  of  precedence. 

135 


of  the  great  war.1  The  Master  of  the  Well 2  was 
a  venomous  Dragon,  who  used  to  live  in  a  lake 
that  once  covered  a  great  part  of  this  district. 
After  the  lake  had  been  filled  in,  by  govern 
ment  order,  in  order  that  houses  might  be  built 
upon  the  place  of  it,  the  Dragon  took  posses 
sion  of  the  well ;  and  when  I  fell  into  the  well 
I  became  subject  to  him  ;  and  he  compelled  me 
to  lure  many  people  to  their  deaths.  But  the 
gods  have  banished  him  forever.  .  .  .  Now  I 
have  one  more  favor  to  beseech :  I  entreat 
that  you  will  cause  me  to  be  offered  up  to  the 
Sh5gun,  the  Lord  Yoshimasa,  who  by  descent 
is  related  to  my  former  possessors.  Do  me  but 
this  last  great  kindness,  and  it  will  bring  you 

1  For  centuries  the  wives  of  the  emperors  and  the  ladies 
of  the  Imperial  Court  were  chosen  from  the  Fujiwara  clan. 
—  The  period  called  Hogen  lasted  from  1156  to  1159:  the 
war  referred  to  is  the  famous  war  between  the  Taira  and 
Minamoto  clans. 

2  In  oldvtime  belief  every  lake  or  spring  had  its  invisible 
guardian,  supposed  to  sometimes  take  the  form  of  a  serpent 
or  dragon.    The   spirit   of  a  lake  or  pond  was  commonly 
spoken  of  as  Ike-no-Mushi,  the  Master-  of  the  Lake.    Here 
we  find  the  title  "Master"  given  to  a  dragon  living  in  a  well; 
but  the  guardian  of  wells  is  really  the  god  Suijin. 

136 


good-fortune.  .  .  .  But  I  have  also  to  warn  you 
of  a  danger.  In  this  house,  after  to-morrow,  you 
must  not  stay,  because  it  will  be  destroyed." 
.  .  .  And  with  these  words  of  warning  Yayoi 
disappeared. 

Matsumura  was  able  to  profit  by  this 
premonition.  He  removed  his  people  and  his 
belongings  to  another  district  the  next  day  ;  and 
almost  immediately  afterwards  another  storm 
arose,  even  more  violent  than  the  first,  causing 
a  flood  which  swept  away  the  house  in  which 
he  had  been  residing. 

Some  time  later,  by  favor  of  the  Lord 
Hosokawa,  Matsumura  was  enabled  to  obtain 
an  audience  of  the  Shogun  Yoshimasa,  to  whom 
he  presented  the  mirror,  together  with  a  writ 
ten  account  of  its  wonderful  history.  Then  the 
prediction  of  the  Spirit  of  the  Mirror  was  ful 
filled  ;  for  the  Shogun,  greatly  pleased  with  this 
strange  gift,  not  only  bestowed  costly  presents 
upon  Matsumura,  but  also  made  an  ample  grant 
of  money  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple  of 
Ogawachi-Myojin. 

137 


THE 
STORY 

or 

ITO 
NORISUttE 


THE 
STORY 

or 

ITO 
NORISUItE 

IN  the  town  of  Uji,  in  the  province 
of  Yamashiro,  there  lived,  about  six  hundred 
years  ago,  a  young  samurai  named  Ito  Tate"- 
waki  Norisuke,  whose  ancestors  were  of  the 
Hei'k6  clan.  Ito  was  of  handsome  person  and 
amiable  character,  a  good  scholar  and  apt  at 
arms.  But  his  family  were  poor ;  and  he  had 
no  patron  among  the  military  nobility,  —  so 
that  his  prospects  were  small.  He  lived  in  a 
very  quiet  way,  devoting  himself  to  the  study 
of  literature,  and  having  (says  the  Japanese 
story-teller)  "  only  the  Moon  and  the  Wind  for 
friends." 

One  autumn  evening,  as  he  was  tak 
ing  a  solitary  walk  in  the  neighborhood  of  the 

141 


hill  called  Kotobikiyama,  he  happened  to  over 
take  a  young  girl  who  was  following  the  same 
path.  She  was  richly  dressed,  and  seemed  to  be 
about  eleven  or  twelve  years  old.  I  to  greeted 
her,  and  said,  "  The  sun  will  soon  be  setting, 
damsel,  and  this  is  rather  a  lonesome  place. 
May  I  ask  if  you  have  lost  your  way  ? "  She 
looked  up  at  him  with  a  bright  smile,  and  an 
swered  deprecatingly  :  "  Nay  !  I  am  a  miya-dzu- 
kai*  serving  in  this  neighborhood  ;  and  I  have 
only  a  little  way  to  go." 

By  her  use  of  the  term  miya-dzukai, 
I  to  knew  that  the  girl  must  be  in  the  service 
of  persons  of  rank  ;  and  her  statement  surprised 
him,  because  he  had  never  heard  of  any  family 
of  distinction  residing  in  that  vicinity.  But  he 
only  said  :  "I  am  returning  to  Uji,  where  my 
home  is.  Perhaps  you  will  allow  me  to  accom 
pany  you  on  the  way,  as  this  is  a  very  lone 
some  place."  She  thanked  him  gracefully, 
seeming  pleased  by  his  offer ;  and  they  walked 
on  together,  chatting  as  they  went.  She  talked 
about  the  weather,  the  flowers,  the  butterflies, 

i  August-residence  servant. 
142 


and  the  birds ;  about  a  visit  that  she  had  once 
made  to  Uji,  about  the  famous  sights  of  the 
capital,  where  she  had  been  born  ;  —  and  the 
moments  passed  pleasantly  for  Ito,  as  he  lis 
tened  to  her  fresh  prattle.  Presently,  at  a  turn 
in  the  road,  they  entered  a  hamlet,  densely 
shadowed  by  a  grove  of  young  trees. 

[Here  I  must  interrupt  the  story  to 
tell  you  that,  without  having  actually  seen  them, 
you  cannot  imagine  how  dark  some  Japanese 
country  villages  remain  even  in  the  brightest 
and  hottest  weather.  In  the  neighborhood  of 
Tokyo  itself  there  are  many  villages  of  this 
kind.  At  a  short  distance  from  such  a  settle 
ment  you  see  no  houses  :  nothing  is  visible  but 
a  dense  grove  of  evergreen  trees.  The  grove, 
which  is  usually  composed  of  young  cedars  and 
bamboos,  serves  to  shelter  the  village  from 
storms,  and  also  to  supply  timber  for  various 
purposes.  So  closely  are  the  trees  planted  that 
there  is  no  room  to  pass  between  the  trunks  of 
them  :  they  stand  straight  as  masts,  and  mingle 
their  crests  so  as  to  form  a  roof  that  excludes 

143 


the  sun.  Each  thatched  cottage  occupies  a  clear 
space  in  the  plantation,  the  trees  forming  a 
fence  about  it,  double  the  height  of  the  build 
ing.  Under  the  trees  it  is  always  twilight,  even 
at  high  noon ;  and  the  houses,  morning  or  even 
ing,  are  half  in  shadow.  What  makes  the  first 
impression  of  such  a  village  almost  disquieting 
is,  not  the  transparent  gloom,  which  has  a  cer 
tain  weird  charm  of  its  own,  but  the  stillness. 
There  may  be  fifty  or  a  hundred  dwellings  ;  but 
you  see  nobody ;  and  you  hear  no  sound  but 
the  twitter  of  invisible  birds,  the  occasional 
crowing  of  cocks,  and  the  shrilling  of  cicadae. 
Even  the  cicadae,  however,  find  these  groves 
too  dim,  and  sing  faintly;  being  sun-lovers, 
they  prefer  the  trees  outside  the  village.  I  for 
got  to  say  that  you  may  sometimes  hear  a 
viewless  shuttle  —  chaka-ton,  chaka-ton  ;  —  but 
that  familiar  sound,  in  the  great  green  silence, 
seems  an  elfish  happening.  The  reason  of  the 
hush  is  simply  that  the  people  are  not  at  home. 
All  the  adults,  excepting  some  feeble  elders, 
have  gone  to  the  neighboring  fields,  the  women 
carrying  their  babies  on  their  backs ;  and  most 
144 


of  the  children  have  gone  to  the  nearest  school, 
perhaps  not  less  than  a  mile  away.  Verily,  in 
these  dim  hushed  villages,  one  seems  to  behold 
the  mysterious  perpetuation  of  conditions  re 
corded  in  the  texts  of  Kwang-Tze  :  — 

"  The  ancients  who  had  the  nourishment 
of  the  world  wished  for  nothing,  and  the  world 
had  enough  :  —  they  did  nothing,  and  all  things 
were  transformed:  —  their  stillness  was  abys 
mal,  and  the  people  were  all  composed"} 

.  .  .  The  village  was  very  dark  when 
It5  reached  it ;  for  the  sun  had  set,  and  the 
after-glow  made  no  twilight  in  the  shadowing 
of  the  trees.  "Now,  kind  sir,"  the  child  said, 
pointing  to  a  narrow  lane  opening  upon  the 
main  road,  "I  have  to  go  this  way."  "Permit 
me,  then,  to  see  you  home,"  Ito  responded;  and 
he  turned  into  the  lane  with  her,  feeling  rather 
than  seeing  his  way.  But  the  girl  soon  stopped 
before  a  small  gate,  dimly  visible  in  the  gloom, 
—  a  gate  of  trelliswork,  beyond  which  the  lights 
of  a  dwelling  could  be  seen.  "  Here,"  she  said, 
"  is  the  honorable  residence  in  which  I  serve. 

145 


As  you  have  come  thus  far  out  of  your  way, 
kind  sir,  will  you  not  deign  to  enter  and  to  rest 
a  while  ?  "  Ito  assented.  He  was  pleased  by 
the  informal  invitation  ;  and  he  wished  to  learn 
what  persons  of  superior  condition  had  chosen 
to  reside  in  so  lonesome  a  village.  He  knew 
that  sometimes  a  family  of  rank  would  retire  in 
this  manner  from  public  life,  by  reason  of  gov 
ernment  displeasure  or  political  trouble  ;  and  he 
imagined  that  such  might  be  the  history  of  the 
occupants  of  the  dwelling  before  him.  Passing 
the  gate,  which  his  young  guide  opened  for  him, 
he  found  himself  in  a  large  quaint  garden.  A 
miniature  landscape,  traversed  by  a  winding 
stream,  was  faintly  distinguishable.  "  Deign  for 
one  little  moment  to  wait,"  the  child  said  ;  "  I 
go  to  announce  the  honorable  coming;"  and 
hurried  toward  the  house.  It  was  a  spacious 
house,  but  seemed  very  old,  and  built  in  the 
fashion  of  another  time.  The  sliding  doors  were 
not  closed  ;  but  the  lighted  interior  was  con 
cealed  by  a  beautiful  bamboo  curtain  extending 
along  the  gallery  front.  Behind  it  shadows  were 
moving  —  shadows  of  women ;  —  and  suddenly 
146 


the  music  of  a  koto  rippled  into  the  night.  So 
light  and  sweet  was  the  playing  that  Ito  could 
scarcely  believe  the  evidence  of  his  senses.  A 
slumbrous  feeling  of .  delight  stole  over  him  as 
he  listened,  —  a  delight  strangely  mingled  with 
sadness.  He  wondered  how  any  woman  could 
have  learned  to  play  thus,  — wondered  whether 
the  player  could  be  a  woman,  —  wondered  even 
whether  he  was  hearing  earthly  music  ;  for  en 
chantment  seemed  to  have  entered  into  his  blood 
with  the  sound  of  it. 

The  soft  music  ceased ;  and  almost 
at  the  same  moment  Ito  found  the  little  miya- 
dzukai  beside  him.  "  Sir,"  she  said,  "it  is 
requested  that  you  will  honorably  enter."  She 
conducted  him  to  the  entrance,  where  he  re 
moved  his  sandals ;  and  an  aged  woman,  whom 
he  thought  to  be  the  Rojo,  or  matron  of  the 
household,  came  to  welcome  him  at  the  thresh 
old.  The  old  woman  then  led  him  through 
many  apartments  to  a  large  and  well-lighted 
room  in  the  rear  of  the  house,  and  with  many 
respectful  salutations  requested  him  to  take  the 

147 


place  of  honor  accorded  to  guests  of  distinction. 
He  was  surprised  by  the  stateliness  of  the 
chamber,  and  the  curious  beauty  of  its  decora 
tions.  Presently  some  maid-servants  brought 
refreshments ;  and  he  noticed  that  the  cups 
and  other  vessels  set  before  him  were  of  rare 
and  costly  workmanship,  and  ornamented  with 
a  design  indicating  the  high  rank  of  the  pos 
sessor.  More  and  more  he  wondered  what  noble 
person  had  chosen  this  lonely  retreat,  and  what 
happening  could  have  inspired  the  wish  for 
such  solitude.  But  the  aged  attendant  suddenly 
interrupted  his  reflections  with  the  question : 

"  Am  I  wrong  in  supposing  that  you 
are  Ito  Sama,  of  Uji,  —  Ito  Tate*waki  Nori- 
suke  ?  " 

It5  bowed  in  assent.  He  had  not  told 
his  name  to  the  little  miya-dzitkai,  and  the 
manner  of  the  inquiry  startled  him. 

"  Please  do  not  think  my  question 
rude,"  continued  the  attendant.  "An  old  wo 
man  like  myself  may  ask  questions  without 
improper  curiosity.  When  you  came  to  the 
house,  I  thought  that  I  knew  your  face ;  and  I 
148 


asked  your  name  only  to  clear  away  all  doubt, 
before  speaking  of  other  matters.  I  have  some 
thing  of  moment  to  tell  you.  You  often  pass 
through  this  village,  and  our  young  Hime'gimi- 
Sama  r  happened  one  morning  to  see  you  going 
by  ;  and  ever  since  that  moment  she  has  been 
thinking  about  you,  day  and  night.  Indeed,  she 
thought  so  much  that  she  became  ill ;  and  we 
have  been  very  uneasy  about  her.  For  that 
reason  I  took  means  to  find  out  your  name  and 
residence ;  and  I  was  on  the  point  of  sending 
you  a  letter  when  —  so  unexpectedly  !  —  you 
came  to  our  gate  with  the  little  attendant.  Now, 
to  say  how  happy  I  am  to  see  you  is  not  pos 
sible  ;  it  seems  almost  too  fortunate  a  hap 
pening  to  be  true !  Really  I  think  that  this 
meeting  must  have  been  brought  about  by  the 
favor  of  Enmusubi-no-Kami,  —  that  great  God  of 
Izumo  who  ties  the  knots  of  fortunate  union. 
And  now  that  so  lucky  a  destiny  has  led  you 
hither,  perhaps  you  will  not  refuse  —  if  there 

*  A  scarcely  translatable  honorific  title  compounded  of 
the  word  himl  (princess)  and  kimi  (sovereign,  master  or 
mistress,  lord  or  lady,  etc.). 

149 


be  no  obstacle  in  the  way  of  such  a  union  —  to  . 
make  happy  the  heart  of  our  Himegimi-Sama?" 

For  the  moment  It5  did  not  know 
how  to  reply.  If  the  old  woman  had  spoken  the 
truth,  an  extraordinary  chance  was  being  offered 
to  him?  Only  a  great  passion  could  impel  the 
daughter  of  a  noble  house  to  seek,  of  her  own 
will,  the  affection  of  an  obscure  and  masterless 
samurai,  possessing  neither  wealth  nor  any  sort 
of  prospects.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  not  in 
the  honorable  nature  of  the  man  to  further  his 
own  interests  by  taking  advantage  of  a  feminine 
weakness.  Moreover,  the  circumstances  were 
disquietingly  mysterious.  Yet  how  to  decline 
the  proposal,  so  unexpectedly  made,  troubled 
him  not  a  little.  After  a  short  silence,  he  re 
plied  :  — 

"  There  would  be  no  obstacle,  as  I 
have  no  wife,  and  no  betrothed,  and  no  rela 
tion  with  any  woman.  Until  now  I  have  lived 
with  my  parents ;  and  the  matter  of  my  mar 
riage  was  never  discussed  by  them.  You  must 
know  that  I  am  a  poor  samurai,  without  any 
patron  among  persons  of  rank  ;  and  I  did  not 
150 


wish  to  marry  until  I  could  find  some  chance 
to  improve  my  condition.  As  to  the  proposal 
which  you  have  done  me  the  very  great  honor 
to  make,  I  can  only  say  that  I  know  myself  yet 
unworthy  of  the  notice  of  any  noble  maiden." 

The  old  woman  smiled  as  if  pleased 
by  these  words,  and  responded  :  — 

"  Until  you  have  seen  our  Himegimi- 
Sama,  it  were  better  that  you  make  no  decision. 
Perhaps  you  will  feel  no  hesitation  after  you 
have  seen  her.  Deign  now  to  come  with  me, 
that  I  may  present  you  to  her." 

She  conducted  him  to  another  larger 
guest-room,  where  preparations  for  a  feast  had 
been  made,  and  having  shown  him  the  place 
of  honor,  left  him  for  a  moment  alone.  She 
returned  accompanied  by  the  Hime*gimi-Sama ; 
and,  at  the  first  sight  of  the  young  mistress, 
I  to  felt  again  the  strange  thrill  of  wonder  and 
delight  that  had  come  to  him  in  the  garden, 
as  he  listened  to  the  music  of  the  koto.  Never 
had  he  dreamed  of  so  beautiful  a  being.  Light 
seemed  to  radiate  from  her  presence,  and  to 
shine  through  her  garments,  as  the  light  of  the 


moon  through  flossy  clouds ;  her  loosely  flowing 
hair  swayed  about  her  as  she  moved,  like  the 
boughs  of  the  drooping  willow  bestirred  by  the 
breezes  of  spring;  her  lips  were  like  flowers 
of  the  peach  besprinkled  with  morning  dew. 
ltd  was  bewildered  by  the  vision.  He  asked 
himself  whether  he  was  not  looking  upon  the 
person  of  Amano-kawara-no-Ori-Hime  herself, 
—  the  Weaving-Maiden  who  dwells  by  the 
shining  River  of  Heaven. 

Smiling,  the  aged  woman  turned  to 
the  fair  one,  who  remained  speechless,  with 
downcast  eyes  and  flushing  cheeks,  and  said  to 
her:  — 

"  See,  my  child  !  —  at  the  moment 
when  we  could  least  have  hoped  for  such  a 
thing,  the  very  person  whom  you  wished  to 
meet  has  come  of  his  own  accord.  So  fortunate 
a  happening  could  have  been  brought  about 
only  by  the  will  of  the  high  gods.  To  think  of 
it  makes  me  weep  for  joy."  And  she  sobbed 
aloud.  "  But  now,"  she  continued,  wiping  away 
her  tears  with  her  sleeve,  "  it  only  remains  for 
you  both  —  unless  either  prove  unwilling, 
152 


which  I  doubt  —  to  pledge  yourselves  to  each 
other,  and  to  partake  of  your  wedding  feast." 

It5  answered  by  no  word  :  the  in 
comparable  vision  before  him  had  numbed  his 
will  and  tied  his  tongue.  Maid-servants  entered, 
bearing  dishes  and  wine  :  the  wedding  feast  was 
spread  before  the  pair ;  and  the  pledges  were 
given,  ltd  nevertheless  remained  as  in  a  trance  : 
the  marvel  of  the  adventure,  and  the  wonder  of 
the  beauty  of  the  bride,  still  bewildered  him. 
A  gladness,  beyond  aught  that  he  had  ever 
known  before,  filled  his  heart  —  like  a  great 
silence.  But  gradually  he  recovered  his  wonted 
calm ;  and  thereafter  he  found  himself  able  to 
converse  without  embarrassment.  Of  the  wine 
he  partook  freely ;  and  he  ventured  to  speak, 
in  a  self-depreciating  but  merry  way,  about  the 
doubts  and  fears  that  had  oppressed  him. 
Meanwhile  the  bride  remained  still  as  moon 
light,  never  lifting  her  eyes,  and  replying  only 
by  a  blush  or  a  smile  when  he  addressed  her. 
It5  said  to  the  aged  attendant :  — 
"  Many  times,  in  my  solitary  walks,  I 

153 


have  passed  through  this  village  without  know 
ing  of  the  existence  of  this  honorable  dwelling. 
And  ever  since  entering  here,  I  have  been  won 
dering  why  this  noble  household  should  have 
chosen  so  lonesome  a  place  of  sojourn.  .  .  . 
Now  that  your  Himegimi-Sama  and  I  have  be 
come  pledged  to  each  other,  it  seems  to  me  a 
strange  thing  that  I  do  not  yet  know  the  name 
of  her  august  family." 

At  this  utterance,  a  shadow  passed 
over  the  kindly  face  of  the  old  woman  ;  and  the 
bride,  who  had  yet  hardly  spoken,  turned  pale, 
and  appeared  to  become  painfully  anxious.  Af 
ter  some  moments  of  silence,  the  aged  woman 
responded :  - 

"  To  keep  our  secret  from  you  much 
longer  would  be  difficult ;  and  I  think  that, 
under  any  circumstances,  you  should  be  made 
aware  of  the  facts,  now  that  you  are  one  of  us. 
Know  then,  Sir  Ito,  that  your  bride  is  the 
daughter  of  Shige"hira-Ky5,  the  great  and  un 
fortunate  San-mi  Chiij5." 

At  those  words  —  "  Shigehira-Ky5, 
San-mi  Chiijo  "  —  the  young  samurai  felt  a 
154 


chill,  as  of  ice,  strike  through  all  his  veins. 
Shigehira-Kyo,  the  great  Heike  general  and 
statesman,  had  been  dust  for  centuries.  And 
Ito  suddenly  understood  that  everything  around 
him  —  the  chamber  and  the  lights  and  the  ban 
quet —  was  a  dream  of  the  past ;  that  the  forms 
before  him  were  not  people,  but  shadows  of 
people  dead. 

But  in  another  instant  the  icy  chill 
had  passed ;  and  the  charm  returned,  and 
seemed  to  deepen  about  him ;  and  he  felt  no 
fear.  Though  his  bride  had  come  to  him  out 
of  Yomi,  —  out  of  the  place  of  the  Yellow 
Springs  of  death,  — his  heart  had  been  wholly 
won.  Who  weds  a  ghost  must  become  a  ghost ; 
—  yet  he  knew  himself  ready  to  die,  not  once, 
but  many  times,  rather  than  betray  by  word  or 
look  one  thought  that  might  bring  a  shadow, 
of  pain  to  the  brow  of  the  beautiful  illusion  be 
fore  him.  Of  the  affection  proffered  he  had  no 
misgiving :  the  truth  had  been  told  him  when 
any  unloving  purpose  might  better  have  been 
served  by  deception.  But  these  thoughts  and 
emotions  passed  in  a  flash,  leaving  him  resolved 

155 


to  accept  the  strange  situation  as  it  had  pre 
sented  itself,  and  to  act  just  as  he  would  have 
done  if  chosen,  in  the  years  of  Jii-ei,  by  Shige- 
hira's  daughter. 

"  Ah,  the  pity  of  it !  "  he  exclaimed  ; 
"  I  have  heard  of  the  cruel  fate  of  the  august 
Lord  Shigehira." 

"Ay,"  responded  the  aged  woman, 
sobbing  as  she  spoke ;  —  "it  was  indeed  a  cruel 
fate.  His  horse,  you  know,  was  killed  by  an 
arrow,  and  fell  upon  him ;  and  when  he  called 
for  help,  those  who  had  lived  upon  his  bounty 
deserted  him  in  his  need.  Then  he  was  taken 
prisoner,  and  sent  to  Kamakura,  where  they 
treated  him  shamefully,  and  at  last  put  him  to 
death.1  His  wife  and  child  —  this  dear  maid 

i  Shigehira,  after  a  brave  fight  in  defense  of  the  capital, 
—  then  held  by  the  Ta'i'ra  (or  He'i'ke)  party,  —  was  surprised 
and  routed  by  Yoshitsune,  leader  of  the  Minamoto  forces. 
A  soldier  named  lyenaga,  who  was  a  skilled  archer,  shot 
down  Shigehira's  horse  ;  and  Shigehira  fell  under  the  strug 
gling  animal.  He  cried  to  an  attendant  to  bring  another 
horse;  but  the  man  fled.  Shigehira  was  then  captured  by 
lyenaga,  and  eventually  given  up  to  Yoritomo,  head  of  the 
Minamoto  clan,  who  caused  him  to  be  sent  in  a  cage  to 

156 


here  —  were  then  in  hiding  ;  for  everywhere 
the  He'fke  were  being  sought  out  and  killed. 
When  the  news  of  the  Lord  Shigehira's  death 
reached  us,  the  pain  proved  too  great  for 
the  mother  to  bear,  so  the  child  was  left  with 
no  one  to  care  for  her  but  me,  —  since  her 
kindred  had  all  perished  or  disappeared.  She 
was  only  five  years  old.  I  had  been  her  milk- 
nurse,  and  I  did  what  I  could  for  her.  Year 
after  year  we  wandered  from  place  to  place, 
traveling  in  pilgrim-garb.  .  .  .  But  these  tales 
of  grief  are  ill-timed,"  exclaimed  the  nurse, 
wiping  away  her  tears ;  —  "  pardon  the  foolish 
heart  of  an  old  woman  who  cannot  forget  the 
past.  See !  the  little  maid  whom  I  fostered  has 
now  become  a  Himegimi-Sama  indeed  !  —  were 
we  living  in  the  good  days  of  the  Emperor  Ta- 
kakura,  what  a  destiny  might  be  reserved  for 
her!  However,  she  has  obtained  the  husband 

Kamakura.  There,  after  sundry  humiliations,  he  was  treated 
for  a  time  with  consideration,  —  having  been  able,  by  a  Chi 
nese  poem,  to  touch  even  the  cruel  heart  of  Yoritomo.  But 
in  the  following  year  he  was  executed  by  request  of  the 
Buddhist  priests  of  Nanto,  against  whom  he  had  formerly 
waged  war  by  order  of  Kiyomori. 

157 


whom  she  desired ;  that  is  the  greatest  happi 
ness.  .  .  .  But  the  hour  is  late.  The  bridal- 
chamber  has  been  prepared  ;  and  I  must  now 
leave  you  to  care  for  each  other  until  morning." 

She  rose,  and  sliding  back  the  screens 
parting  the  guest-room  from  the  adjoining 
chamber,  ushered  them  to  their  sleeping  apart 
ment.  Then,  with  many  words  of  joy  and  con 
gratulation,  she  withdrew;  and  Ito  was  left 
alone  with  his  bride. 

As  they  reposed  together,  Ito  said  :  — 

"  Tell  me,  my  loved  one,  when  was  it 
that  you  first  wished  to  have  me  for  your  hus 
band/' 

(For  everything  appeared  so  real  that 
he  had  almost  ceased  to  think  of  the  illusion 
woven  around  him.) 

She  answered,  in  a  voice  like  a  dove's 
voice  :  — 

"  My  august  lord  and  husband,  it  was 
at  the  temple  of  Ishiyama,  where  I  went  with 
my  foster-mother,  that  I  saw  you  for  the  first 
time.  And  because  of  seeing  you,  the  world 
became  changed  to  me  from  that  hour  and  mo- 
158 


ment.  But  you  do  not  remember,  because  our 
meeting  was  not  in  this,  your  present  life  :  it 
was  very,  very  long  ago.  Since  that  time  you 
have  passed  through  many  deaths  and  births, 
and  have  had  many  comely  bodies.  But  I  have 
remained  always  that  which  you  see  me  now : 
I  could  not  obtain  another  body,  nor  enter  into 
another  state  of  existence,  because  of  my  great 
wish  for  you.  My  dear  lord  and  husband,  I  have 
waited  for  you  through  many  ages  of  men." 

And  the  bridegroom  felt  nowise  afraid 
at  hearing  these  strange  words,  but  desired  no 
thing  more  in  life,  or  in  all  his  lives  to  come, 
than  to  feel  her  arms  about  him,  and  to  hear 
the  caress  of  her  voice. 

But  the  pealing  of  a  temple-bell  pro 
claimed  the  coming  of  dawn.  Birds  began  to 
twitter;  a  morning  breeze  set  all  the  trees 
a-whispering.  Suddenly  the  old  nurse  pushed 
apart  the  sliding  screens  of  the  bridal-chamber, 
and  exclaimed :  — 

"  My  children,  it  is  time  to  separate ! 
By  daylight  you  must  not  be  together,  even  for 

159 


an  instant :  that  were  fatal !  You  must  bid  each 
other  good-by." 

Without  a  word,  It5  made  ready  to 
depart.  He  vaguely  understood  the  warning  ut 
tered,  and  resigned  himself  wholly  to  destiny. 
His  will  belonged  to  him  no  more ;  he  desired 
only  to  please  his  shadowy  bride. 

She  placed  in  his  hands  a  little  suzitri, 
or  ink-stone,  curiously  carved,  and  said  :  — 

"  My  young  lord  and  husband  is  a 
scholar ;  therefore  this  small  gift  will  probably 
not  be  despised  by  him.  It  is  of  strange  fashion 
because  it  is  old,  having  been  augustly  bestowed 
upon  my  father  by  the  favor  of  the  Emperor 
Takakura.  For  that  reason  only,  I  thought  it 
to  be  a  precious  thing." 

Ito,  in  return,  besought  her  to  accept 
for  a  remembrance  the  kogai I  of  his  sword, 
which  were  decorated  with  inlaid  work  of  silver 
and  gold,  representing  plum-flowers  and  night 
ingales. 

1  This  was  the  name  given  to  a  pair  of  metal  rods  attached 
to  a  sword-sheath,  and  used  like  chop-sticks.     They  were 
sometimes  exquisitely  ornamented. 
1 60 


Then  the  little  miya-dzukai  came  to 
guide  him  through  the  garden,  and  his  bride 
with  her  foster-mother  accompanied  him  to  the 
threshold. 

As  he  turned  at  the  foot  of  the  steps 
to  make  his  parting  salute,  the  old  woman 
said :  — 

"  We  shall  meet  again  the  next  Year 
of  the  Boar,  at  the  same  hour  of  the  same  day 
of  the  same  month  that  you  came  here.  This 
being  the  Year  of  the  Tiger,  you  will  have  to 
wait  ten  years.  But,  for  reasons  which  I  must 
not  say,  we  shall  not  be  able  to  meet  again  in 
this  place ;  we  are  going  to  the  neighborhood 
of  Kyoto,  where  the  good  Emperor  Takakura 
and  our  fathers  and  many  of  our  people  are 
dwelling.  All  the  Hei'ke  will  be  rejoiced  by 
your  coming.  We  shall  send  a  kago  x  for  you 
on  the  appointed  day." 

Above  the  village  the  stars  were  burn 
ing  as  I  to  passed  the  gate ;  but  on  reaching  the 
open  road  he  saw  the  dawn  brightening  beyond 

i  A  kind  of  palanquin. 

161 


leagues  of  silent  fields.  In  his  bosom  he  carried 
the  gift  of  his  bride.  The  charm  of  her  voice 
lingered  in  his  ears,  —  and  nevertheless,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  memento  which  he  touched 
with  questioning  fingers,  he  could  have  per 
suaded  himself  that  the  memories  of  the  night 
were  memories  of  sleep,  and  that  his  life  still 
belonged  to  him. 

But  the  certainty  that  he  had  doomed 
himself  evoked  no  least  regret :  he  was  troubled 
only  by  the  pain  of  separation,  and  the  thought 
of  the  seasons  that  would  have  to  pass  before 
the  illusion  could  be  renewed  for  him.  Ten 
years !  —  and  every  day  of  those  years  would 
seem  how  long !  The  mystery  of  the  delay  he 
could  not  hope  to  solve ;  the  secret  ways  of  the 
dead  are  known  to  the  gods  alone. 

Often  and  often,  in  his  solitary  walks, 
I  to  revisited  the  village  at  Kotobikiyama,  vaguely 
hoping  to  obtain  another  glimpse  of  the  past. 
But  never  again,  by  night  or  by  day,  was  he 
able  to  find  the  rustic  gate  in  the  shadowed 
lane ;  never  again  could  he  perceive  the  figure 
162 


of  the  little  miya-dzukai,  walking  alone  in  the 
sunset-glow. 

The  village  people,  whom  he  ques 
tioned  carefully,  thought  him  bewitched.  No 
person  of  rank,  they  said,  had  ever  dwelt  in  the 
settlement ;  and  there  had  never  been,  in  the 
neighborhood,  any  such  garden  as  he  described. 
But  there  had  once  been  a  great  Buddhist  tem 
ple  near  the  place  of  which  he  spoke  ;  and  some 
gravestones  of  the  temple-cemetery  were  still  to 
be  seen.  Ito  discovered  the  monuments  in  the 
middle  of  a  dense  thicket.  They  were  of  an  an 
cient  Chinese  form,  and  were  covered  with  moss 
and  lichens,  The  characters  that  had  been  cut 
upon  them  could  no  longer  be  deciphered. 

Of  his  adventure  Ito  spoke  to  no  one. 
But  friends  and  kindred  soon  perceived  a  great 
change  in  his  appearance  and  manner.  Day  by 
day  he  seemed  to  become  more  pale  and  thin, 
though  physicians  declared  that  he  had  no  bod 
ily  ailment ;  he  looked  like  a  ghost,  and  moved 
like  a  shadow.  Thoughtful  and  solitary  he  had 
always  been,  but  now  he  appeared  indifferent 

163 


to  everything  which  had  formerly  given  him 
pleasure,  —  even  to  those  literary  studies  by 
means  of  which  he  might  have  hoped  to  win 
distinction.  To  his  mother  —  who  thought  that 
marriage  might  quicken  his  former  ambition, 
and  revive  his  interest  in  life  —  he  said  that  he 
had  made  a  vow  to  marry  no  living  woman. 
And  the  months  dragged  by. 

At  last  came  the  Year  of  the  Boar, 
and  the  season  of  autumn ;  but  Ito  could  no 
longer  take  the  solitary  walks  that  he  loved. 
He  could  not  even  rise  from  his  bed.  His  life 
was  ebbing,  though  none  could  divine  the  cause ; 
and  he  slept  so  deeply  and  so  long  that  his  sleep 
was  often  mistaken  for  death. 

Out  of  such  a  sleep  he  was  startled, 
one  bright  evening,  by  the  voice  of  a  child ; 
and  he  saw  at  his  bedside  the  little  miya-dzukai 
who  had  guided  him,  ten  years  before,  to  the 
gate  of  the  vanished  garden.  She  saluted  him, 
and  smiled,  and  said  :  "  I  am  bidden  to  tell  you 
that  you  will  be  received  to-night  at  Ohara,  near 
Kyoto,  where  the  new  home  is,  and  that  a  kago 
has  been  sent  for  you."  Then  she  disappeared. 
164 


I  to  knew  that  he  was  being  summoned 
away  from  the  light  of  the  sun  ;  but  the  message 
so  rejoiced  him  that  he  found  strength  to  sit  up 
and  call  his  mother.  To  her  he  then  for  the 
first  time  related  the  story  of  his  bridal,  and  he 
showed  her  the  ink-stone  which  had  been  given 
him.  He  asked  that  it  should  be  placed  in  his 
coffin,  —  and  then  he  died. 

The  ink-stone  was  buried  with  him. 
But  before  the  funeral  ceremonies  it  was  exam 
ined  by  experts,  who  said  that  it  had  been  made 
in  the  period  of  Jo-an  (i  169  A.  D.),  and  that  it 
bore  the  seal-mark  of  an  artist  who  had  lived  in 
the  time  of  the  Emperor  Takakura. 


STRANGER 

THAN 
FICTION 


STRANGER 

THAN 
FICTION 


IT  was  a  perfect  West  Indian  day. 
My  friend  the  notary  and  I  were  crossing  the 
island  by  a  wonderful  road  which  wound  up 
through  tropic  forest  to  the  clouds,  and  thence 
looped  down  again,  through  gold-green  slopes 
of  cane,  and  scenery  amazing  of  violet  and  blue 
and  ghost-gray  peaks,  to  the  roaring  coast  of 
the  trade  winds.  All  the  morning  we  had  been 
ascending,  —  walking  after  our  carriage,  most 
of  the  time,  for  the  sake  of  the  brave  little 
mule ;  —  and  the  sea  had  been  climbing  behind 
us  till  it  looked  like  a  monstrous  wall  of  blue, 
pansy-blue,  under  the  ever  heightening  horizon. 
The  heat  was  like  the  heat  of  a  vapor-bath,  but 
the  air  was  good  to  breathe  with  its  tropical 
odor,  — an  odor  made  up  of  smells  of  strange 

169 


saps,  queer  spicy  scents  of  mould,  exhalations 
of  aromatic  decay.  Moreover,  the  views  were 
glimpses  of  Paradise ;  and  it  was  a  joy  to  watch 
the  torrents  roaring  down  their  gorges  under 
shadows  of  tree-fern  and  bamboo. 

My  friend  stopped  the  carriage  before 
a  gateway  set  into  a  hedge  full  of  flowers  that 
looked  like  pink-and-white  butterflies.  "  I  have 
to  make  a  call  here,"  he  said  ;  —  "  come  in  with 
me."  We  dismounted,  and  he  knocked  on  the 
gate  with  the  butt  of  his  whip.  Within,  at  the 
end  of  a  shady  garden,  I  could  see  the  porch  of 
a  planter's  house ;  beyond  were  rows  of  cocoa 
palms,  and  glimpses  of  yellowing  cane.  Pre 
sently  a  negro,  wearing  only  a  pair  of  canvas 
trousers  and  a  great  straw  hat,  came  hobbling 
to  open  the  gate,  —  followed  by  a  multitude, 
an  astonishing  multitude,  of  chippering  chick 
ens.  Under  the  shadow  of  that  huge  straw 
hat  I  could  not  see  the  negro's  face ;  but  I 
noticed  that  his  limbs  and  body  were  strangely 
shrunken,  —  looked  as  if  withered  to  the  bone. 
A  weirder  creature  I  had  never  beheld  ;  and  I 
wondered  at  his  following  of  chickens. 
170 


"  Eh !  "  exclaimed  the  notary,  "  your 
chickens  are  as  lively  as  ever !  .  .  .  I  want  to 
see  Madame  Floran." 

"  Moin  kd  di"  the  goblin  responded 
huskily,  in  his  patois  ;  and  he  limped  on  before 
us,  all  the  chickens  hopping  and  cheeping  at 
his  withered  heels. 

"That  fellow,"  my  friend  observed, 
"was  bitten  by  &fer-de-lance  about  eight  or  nine 
years  ago.  He  got  cured,  or  at  least  half-cured, 
in  some  extraordinary  way ;  but  ever  since  then 
he  has  been  a  skeleton.  See  how  he  limps  !  " 

The  skeleton  passed  out  of  sight  be 
hind  the  house,  and  we  waited  a  while  at  the 
front  porch.  Then  a  metisse  —  turbaned  in 
wasp  colors,  and  robed  in  iris  colors,  and  won 
derful  to  behold  —  came  to  tell  us  that  Madame 
hoped  we  would  rest  ourselves  in  the  garden, 
as  the  house  was  very  warm.  Chairs  and  a  little 
table  were  then  set  for  us  in  a  shady  place,  and 
the  me'tisse  brought  out  lemons,  sugar-syrup,  a 
bottle  of  the  clear  plantation  rum  that  smells 
like  apple  juice,  and  ice-cold  water  in  a  dobanne 
of  thick  red  clay.  My  friend  prepared  the  re- 

171 


freshments ;  and  then  our  hostess  came  to  greet 
us,  and  to  sit  with  us,  —  a  nice  old  lady  with 
hair  like  newly  minted  silver.  I  had  never  seen 
a  smile  sweeter  than  that  with  which  she  bade 
us  welcome  ;  and  I  wondered  whether  she  could 
ever  have  been  more  charming  in  her  Creole 
girlhood  than  she  now  appeared,  —  with  her 
kindly  wrinkles,  and  argent  hair,  and  frank, 
black,  sparkling  eyes.  .  .  „ 

In  the  conversation  that  followed  I 
was  not  able  to  take  part,  as  it  related  only  to 
some  question  of  title.  The  notary  soon  ar 
ranged  whatever  there  was  to  arrange ;  and, 
after  some  charmingly  spoken  words  of  fare 
well  from  the  gentle  lady,  we  took  our  depar 
ture.  Again  the  mummified  negro  hobbled  be 
fore  us,  to  open  the  gate,  —  followed  by  all  his 
callow  rabble  of  chickens.  As  we  resumed  our 
places  in  the  carriage  we  could  still  hear  the 
chippering  of  the  creatures,  pursuing  after  that 
ancient  scarecrow. 

"  Is  it  African  sorcery  ? "  I  queried. 
.  .  .  "How  does  he  bewitch  those  chickens ?  " 
172 


"  Queer —  is  it  not  ? "  the  notary  re 
sponded  as  we  drove  away.  "  That  negro  must 
now  be  at  least  eighty  years  old  ;  and  he  may 
live  for  twenty  years  more,  —  the  wretch  !  " 

The  tone  in  which  my  friend  uttered 
this  epithet  —  le  miserable  !  —  somewhat  sur 
prised  me,  as  I  knew  him  to  be  one  of  the  kind 
liest  men  in  the  world,  and  singularly  free  from 
prejudice.  I  suspected  that  a  story  was  coming, 
and  I  waited  for  it  in  silence. 

"  Listen,"  said  the  notary,  after  a 
pause,  during  which  we  left  the  plantation  well 
behind  us ;  "  that  old  sorcerer,  as  you  call  him, 
was  born  upon  the  estate,  a  slave.  The  estate 
belonged  to  M.  Floran,  —  the  husband  of  the 
lady  whom  we  visited ;  and  she  was  a  cousin, 
and  the  marriage  was  a  love-match.  They  had 
been  married  about  two  years  when  the  revolt 
occurred  (fortunately  there  were  no  children), 
—  the  black  revolt  of  eighteen  hundred  and 
forty-eight.  Several  planters  were  murdered ; 
and  M.  Floran  was  one  of  the  first  to  be  killed. 
And  the  old  negro  whom  we  saw  to-day  —  the 
old  sorcerer,  as  you  call  him  —  left  the  plan- 

173 


tation,  and  joined  the  rising:    do  you  under 
stand  ? " 

"Yes,"  I  said;  "but  he  might  have 
done  that  through  fear  of  the  mob." 

"  Certainly  :  the  other  hands  did  the 
same.  But  it  was  he  that  killed  M.  Floran,  - 
for  no  reason  whatever,  —  cut  him  up  with  a 
cutlass.  M.  Floran  was  riding  home  when  the 
attack  was  made,  —  about  a  mile  below  the 
plantation.  .  .  .  Sober,  that  negro  would  not 
have  dared  to  face  M.  Floran  :  the  scoundrel 
was  drunk,  of  course,  —  raving  drunk.  Most 
of  the  blacks  had  been  drinking  tafia,  with  dead 
wasps  in  it,  to  give  themselves  courage." 

"But,"  I  interrupted,  "how  does  it 
happen  that  the  fellow  is  still  on  the  Floran 
plantation?" 

"  Wait  a  moment !  .  .  .  When  the 
military  got  control  of  the  mob,  search  was 
made  everywhere  for  the  murderer  of  M.  Flo- 
ran  ;  but  he  could  not  be  found.  He  was  lying 
out  in  the  cane, — in  M.  Floran' s  cane!  —  like  a 
field-rat,  like  a  snake.  One  morning,  while  the 
gendarmes  were  still  looking  for  him,  he  rushed 
174 


into  the  house,  and  threw  himself  down  in  front 
of  Madame,  weeping  and  screaming,  *  A'ie-yaie- 
ya'ie-yaie  !  —  moin  te  tchout y  !  moin  //  tchout 
y  !  —  ale  -yaie  -yaie  !  '  Those  were  his  very 
words  :  —  '  I  killed  him  !  I  killed  him  ! '  And 
he  begged  for  mercy.  When  he  was  asked  why 
he  killed  M.  Floran,  he  cried  out  that  it  was  the 
devil  —  diabe-a  —  that  had  made  him  do  it ! 
.  .  .  Well,  Madame  forgave  him  !  " 

"  But  how  could  she  ?  "    I  queried. 

"  Oh,  she  had  always  been  very  reli 
gious,"  my  friend  responded,  —  "  sincerely  reli 
gious.  She  only  said,  '  May  God  pardon  me  as 
I  now  pardon  you  ! '  She  made  her  servants 
hide  the  creature  and  feed  him ;  and  they  kept 
him  hidden  until  the  excitement  was  over. 
Then  she  sent  him  back  to  work ;  and  he  has 
been  working  for  her  ever  since.  Of  course  he 
is  now  too  old  to  be  of  any  use  in  the  field ;  — 
he  only  takes  care  of  the  chickens." 

"But  how,"  I  persisted,  "could  the 
relatives  allow  Madame  to  forgive  him  ?  " 

"  Well,  Madame  insisted  that  he  was 
not  mentally  responsible,  —  that  he  was  only  a 

175 


poor  fool  who  had  killed  without  knowing  what 
he  was  doing ;  and  she  argued  that  if  she  could 
forgive  him,  others  could  more  easily  do  the 
sames  There  was  a  consultation  ;  and  the  rela 
tives  decided  so  to  arrange  matters  that  Ma 
dame  could  have  her  own  way." 

"  But  why  ?  " 

"  Because  they  knew  that  she  found 
a  sort  of  religious  consolation  —  a  kind  of  reli 
gious  comfort  —  in  forgiving  the  wretch.  She 
imagined  that  it  was  her  duty  as  a  Christian, 
not  only  to  forgive  him,  but  to  take  care  of 
him.  We  thought  that  she  was  mistaken,  — 
but  we  could  understand.  .  .  .  Well,  there  is 
an  example  of  what  religion  can  do."  .  .  . 

The  suprise  of  a  new  fact,  or  the 
sudden  perception  of  something  never  before 
imagined,  may  cause  an  involuntary  smile.  Un 
consciously  I  smiled,  while  my  friend  was  yet 
speaking;  and  the  good  notary's  brow  dark 
ened. 

"Ah,  you  laugh!"  he  exclaimed, — 
"  you  laugh  !  That  is  wrong !  —  that  is  a  mis- 
176 


take  !  .  .  .  But  you  do  not  believe  :  you  do  not 
know  what  it  is,  —  the  true  religion,  —  the  real 
Christianity  !  " 

Earnestly  I  made  answer  :  — 

"  Pardon  me  !  I  do  believe  every  word 
of  what  you  have  told  me.  If  I  laughed  unthink 
ingly,  it  was  only  because  I  could  not  help  won 
dering  "... 

"  At  what  ?  "  he  questioned  gravely. 

"At  the  marvelous  instinct  of  that 
negro." 

"Ah,  yes!  "  he  returned  approvingly. 
"  Yes,  the  cunning  of  the  animal  it  was,  —  the 
instinct  of  the  brute !  .  .  .  She  was  the  only 
person  in  the  world  who  could  have  saved  him." 

"And  he  knew  it,"  I  ventured  to 
add. 

"  No  —  no  —  no !  "  my  friend  em 
phatically  dissented,  —  "  he  never  could  have 
known  it!  He  only  felt  it!  ...  Find  me  an 
instinct  like  that,  and  I  will  show  you  a  brain 
incapable  of  any  knowledge,  any  thinking,  any 
understanding  :  not  the  mind  of  a  man,  but  the 
brain  of  a  beast !  " 

177 


A 

LETTER 

FROM 

JAPAN 


A 

LETTER 
FROM 
JAPAN 


TOKYO,  August  i,  1904. 
HERE,  in  this  quiet  suburb,  where  the 
green  peace  is  broken  only  by  the  voices  of 
children  at  play  and  the  shrilling  of  cicadse,  it  is 
difficult  to  imagine  that,  a  few  hundred  miles 
away,  there  is  being  carried  on  one  of  the  most 
tremendous  wars  of  modern  times,  between 
armies  aggregating  more  than  half  a  million  of 
men,  or  that,  on  the  intervening  sea,  a  hundred 
ships  of  war  have  been  battling.  This  contest, 
between  the  mightiest  of  Western  powers  and 
a  people  that  began  to  study  Western  science 
only  within  the  recollection  of  many  persons 
still  in  vigorous  life,  is,  on  one  side  at  least,  a 
struggle  for  national  existence.  It  was  inevita- 

181 


ble,  this  struggle,  —  might  perhaps  have  been 
delayed,  but  certainly  not  averted.  Japan  has 
boldly  challenged  an  empire  capable  of  threaten 
ing  simultaneously  the  civilizations  of  the  East 
and  the  West,  —  a  mediaeval  power  that,  unless 
vigorously  checked,  seems  destined  to  absorb 
Scandinavia  and  to  dominate  China.  For  all 
industrial  civilization  the  contest  is  one  of  vast 
moment ;  —  for  Japan  it  is  probably  the  supreme 
crisis  in  her  national  life.  As  to  what  her  fleets 
and  her  armies  have  been  doing,  the  world  is 
fully  informed  ;  but  as  to  what  her  people  are 
doing  at  home,  little  has  been  written. 

To  inexperienced  observation  they 
would  appear  to  be  doing  nothing  unusual ;  and 
this  strange  calm  is  worthy  of  record.  At  the 
beginning  of  hostilities  an  Imperial  mandate  was 
issued,  bidding  all  non-combatants  to  pursue 
their  avocations  as  usual,  and  to  trouble  them 
selves  as  little  as  possible  about  exterior  events  ; 
—  and  this  command  has  been  obeyed  to  the 
letter.  It  would  be  natural  to  suppose  that  all 
the  sacrifices,  tragedies,  and  uncertainties  of  the 
contest  had  thrown  their  gloom  over  the  life  of 
182 


the  capital  in  especial ;  but  there  is  really  no 
thing  whatever  to  indicate  a  condition  of  anxiety 
or  depression.  On  the  contrary,  one  is  aston 
ished  by  the  joyous  tone  of  public  confidence, 
and  the  admirably  restrained  pride  of  the  nation 
in  its  victories.  Western  tides  have  strewn  the 
coast  with  Japanese  corpses  ;  regiments  have 
been  blown  out  of  existence  in  the  storming  of 
positions  defended  by  wire-entanglements ;  bat 
tleships  have  been  lost :  yet  at  no  moment  has 
there  been  the  least  public  excitement.  The 
people  are  following  their  daily  occupations  just 
as  they  did  before  the  war ;  the  cheery  aspect  of 
things  is  just  the  same  ;  the  theatres  and  flower 
displays  are  not  less  well  patronized.  The  life 
of  Tokyo  has  been,  to  outward  seeming,  hardly 
more  affected  by  the  events  of  the  war  than  the 
life  of  nature  beyond  it,  where  the  flowers  are 
blooming  and  the  butterflies  hovering  as  in  other 
summers.  Except  after  the  news  of  some  great 
victory,  —  celebrated  with  fireworks  and  lantern 
processions,  —  there  are  no  signs  of  public  emo 
tion  ;  and  but  for  the  frequent  distribution  of 
newspaper  extras,  by  runners  ringing  bells,  you 

183 


could  almost  persuade  yourself  that  the  whole 
story  of  the  war  is  an  evil  dream. 

Yet  there  has  been,  of  necessity,  a 
vast  amount  of  suffering  —  viewless  and  voice 
less  suffering  —  repressed  by  that  sense  of  social 
and  patriotic  duty  which  is  Japanese  religion. 
As  a  seventeen-syllable  poem  of  the  hour  tells 
us,  the  news  of  every  victory  must  bring  pain 
as  well  as  joy  :  — 

G5gwai  no 
Tabi  teki  mikata 
Goke  ga  fue. 

\Each  time  that  an  extra  is  circulated 
the  widows  of  foes  and  friends  have  increased  in 
multitude^ 

The  great  quiet  and  the  smiling  tear- 
lessness  testify  to  the  more  than  Spartan  dis 
cipline  of  the  race.  Anciently  the  people  were 
trained,  not  only  to  conceal  their  emotions,  but 
to  speak  in  a  cheerful  voice  and  to  show  a  plea 
sant  face  under  any  stress  of  moral  suffering ; 
and  they  are  obedient  to  that  teaching  to-day. 
It  would  still  be  thought  a  shame  to  betray  per- 
184 


sonal  sorrow  for  the  loss  of  those  who  die  for 
Emperor  and  fatherland.  The  public  seem  to 
view  the  events  of  the  war  as  they  would  watch 
the  scenes  of  a  popular  play.  They  are  interested 
without  being  excited  ;  and  their  extraordinary 
self-control  is  particularly  shown  in  various 
manifestations  of  the  "  Play-impulse."  Every 
where  the  theatres  are  producing  war  dramas 
(based  upon  actual  fact);  the  newspapers  and 
magazines  are  publishing  war  stories  and  nov 
els  ;  the  cinematograph  exhibits  the  monstrous 
methods  of  modern  warfare ;  and  numberless 
industries  are  turning  out  objects  of  art  or  util 
ity  designed  to  commemorate  the  Japanese  tri 
umphs. 

But  the  present  psychological  condi 
tion,  the  cheerful  and  even  playful  tone  of 
public  feeling,  can  be  indicated  less  by  any 
general  statement  than  by  the  mention  of  or 
dinary  facts,  —  every-day  matters  recorded  in 
the  writer's  diary. 

Never  before  were  the  photographers 
so  busy  ;  it  is  said  that  they  have  not  been  able 

185 


to  fulfill  half  of  the  demands  made  upon  them. 
The  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  sent  to  the 
war  wished  to  leave  photographs  with  their 
families,  and  also  to  take  with  them  portraits  of 
parents,  children,  and  other  beloved  persons. 
The  nation  was  being  photographed  during  the 
past  six  months. 

A  fact  of  sociological  interest  is  that 
photography  has  added  something  new  to  the 
poetry  of  the  domestic  faith.  From  the  time  of 
its  first  introduction,  photography  became  popu 
lar  in  Japan ;  and  none  of  those  superstitions, 
which  inspire  fear  of  the  camera  among  less  civ 
ilized  races,  offered  any  obstacle  to  the  rapid 
development  of  a  new  industry.  It  is  true  that 
there  exists  some  queer-folk  beliefs  about  pho 
tographs,  —  ideas  of  mysterious  relation  be 
tween  the  sun-picture  and  the  person  imaged. 
For  example  :  if,  in  the  photograph  of  a  group, 
one  figure  appear  indistinct  or  blurred,  that  is 
thought  to  be  an  omen  of  sickness  or  death. 
But  this  superstition  has  its  industrial  value :  it 
has  compelled  photographers  to  be  careful  about 
their  work,  —  especially  in  these  days  of  war, 
1 86 


when  everybody  wants  to  have  a  good  clear 
portrait,  because  the  portrait  might  be  needed 
for  another  purpose  than  preservation  in  an 
album. 

During  the  last  twenty  years  there  has 
gradually  come  into  existence  the  custom  of 
placing  the  photograph  of  a  dead  parent,  brother, 
husband,  or  child,  beside  the  mortuary  tablet 
kept  in  the  Buddhist  household  shrine.  For 
this  reason,  also,  the  departing  soldier  wishes 
to  leave  at  home  a  good  likeness  of  himself. 

The  rites  of  domestic  affection,  in  old 
samurai  families,  are  not  confined  to  the  cult 
of  the  dead.  On  certain  occasions,  the  picture 
of  the  absent  parent,  husband,  brother,  or  be 
trothed,  is  placed  in  the  alcove  of  the  guest 
room,  and  a  feast  laid  out  before  it.  The  pho 
tograph,  in  such  cases,  is  fixed  upon  a  little 
stand  (dai) ;  and  the  feast  is  served  as  if  the 
person  were  present.  This  pretty  custom  of 
preparing  a  meal  for  the  absent  is  probably 
more  ancient  than  any  art  of  portraiture ;  but 
the  modern  photograph  adds  to  the  human 
poetry  of  the  rite.  In  feudal  time  it  was  the 


rule  to  set  the  repast  facing  the  direction  in 
which  the  absent  person  had  gone  —  north, 
south,  east,  or  west.  After  a  brief  interval  the 
covers  of  the  vessels  containing  the  cooked  fooc1 
were  lifted  and  examined.  If  the  lacquered 
inner  surface  was  thickly  beaded  with  vapor,  all 
was  well ;  but  if  the  surface  was  dry,  that  was 
an  omen  of  death,  a  sign  that  the  disembodied 
spirit  had  returned  to  absorb  the  essence  of  the 
offerings. 

As  might  have  been  expected,  in  a 
country  where  the  "  play-impulse  "  is  stronger, 
perhaps,  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  world, 
the  Zeitgeist  found  manifestation  in  the  flower 
displays  of  the  year.  I  visited  those  in  my 
neighborhood,  which  is  the  Quarter  of  the  Gar 
deners.  This  quarter  is  famous  for  its  azaleas 
(tsutsuji) ;  and  every  spring  the  azalea  gardens 
attract  thousands  of  visitors,  —  not  only  by  the 
wonderful  exhibition  then  made  of  shrubs 
which  look  like  solid  masses  of  blossom  (rang 
ing  up  from  snowy  white,  through  all  shades  of 
pink,  to  a  flamboyant  purple)  but  also  by  dis- 
188 


plays  of  effigies :  groups  of  figures  ingeniously 
formed  with  living  leaves  and  flowers.  These 
figures,  life-size,  usually  represent  famous  inci 
dents  of  history  or  drama.  In  many  cases  — 
though  not  in  all  —  the  bodies  and  the  costumes 
are  composed  of  foliage  and  flowers  trained  to 
grow  about  a  framework ;  while  the  faces,  feet, 
and  hands  are  represented  by  some  kind  of 
flesh-colored  composition. 

This  year,  however,  a  majority  of  the 
displays  represented  scenes  of  the  war,  —  such 
as  an  engagement  between  Japanese  infantry 
and  mounted  Cossacks,  a  night  attack  by  tor 
pedo  boats,  the  sinking  of  a  battleship.  In  the 
last-mentioned  display,  Russian  bluejackets  ap 
peared,  swimming  for  their  lives  in  a  rough  sea ; 
—  the  pasteboard  waves  and  the  swimming 
figures  being  made  to  rise  and  fall  by  the  pull 
ing  of  a  string ;  while  the  crackling  of  quick- 
firing  guns  was  imitated  by  a  mechanism  con 
trived  with  sheets  of  zinc. 

It  is  said  that  Admiral  Togo  sent  to 
Tokyo  for  some  flowering-trees  in  pots  —  inas 
much  as  his  responsibilities  allowed  him  no 

189 


chance  of  seeing  the  cherry-flowers  and  the 
plum-blossoms  in  their  season,  —  and  that  the 
gardeners  responded  even  too  generously. 

Almost  immediately  after  the  begin 
ning  of  hostilities,  thousands  of  "  war  pictures '' 
—  mostly  cheap  lithographs  —  were  published. 
The  drawing  and  coloring  were  better  than 
those  of  the  prints  issued  at  the  time  of  the  war 
with  China  ;  but  the  details  were  to  a  great  ex 
tent  imaginary, — altogether  imaginary  as  to  the 
appearance  of  Russian  troops.  Pictures  of  the 
engagements  with  the  Russian  fleet  were  effec 
tive,  despite  some  lurid  exaggeration.  The  most 
startling  things  were  pictures  of  Russian  defeats 
in  Korea,  published  before  a  single  military 
engagement  had  taken  place  ;  —  the  artist  had 
"flushed  to  anticipate  the  scene."  In  these 
prints  the  Russians  were  depicted  as  fleeing  in 
utter  rout,  leaving  their  officers  —  very  fine- 
looking  officers  —  dead  upon  the  field;  while 
the  Japanese  infantry,  with  dreadfully  deter 
mined  faces,  were  coming  up  at  a  double.  The 
propriety  and  the  wisdom  of  thus  pictorially  pre- 
190 


dieting  victory,  and  easy  victory  to  boot,  may 
be  questioned.  But  I  am  told  that  the  custom 
of  so  doing  is  an  old  one ;  and  it  is  thought  that 
to  realize  the  common  hope  thus  imaginatively 
is  lucky.  At  all  events,  there  is  no  attempt  at 
deception  in  these  pictorial  undertakings  ;  — 
they  help  to  keep  up  the  public  courage,  and 
they  ought  to  be  pleasing  to  the  gods. 

Some  of  the  earlier  pictures  have  now 
been  realized  in  grim  fact.  The  victories  in 
China  had  been  similarly  foreshadowed :  they 
amply  justified  the  faith  of  the  artist.  .  .  . 
To-day  the  war  pictures  continue  to  multiply ; 
but  they  have  changed  character.  The  inexora 
ble  truth  of  the  photograph,  and  the  sketches 
of  the  war  correspondent,  now  bring  all  the 
vividness  and  violence  of  fact  to  help  the  artist's 
imagination.  There  was  something  na'fve  and 
theatrical  in  the  drawings  of  anticipation ;  but 
the  pictures  of  the  hour  represent  the  most 
tragic  reality,  —  always  becoming  more  terrible. 
At  this  writing,  Japan  has  yet  lost  no  single 
battle  ;  but  not  a  few  of  her  victories  have  been 
dearly  won. 

191 


To  enumerate  even  a  tenth  of  the  va 
rious  articles  ornamented  with  designs  inspired 
by  the  war  —  articles  such  as  combs,  clasps, 
fans,  brooches,  card-cases,  purses  —  would  re 
quire  a  volume.  Even  cakes  and  confectionery 
are  stamped  with  naval  or  military  designs  ; 
and  the  glass  or  paper  windows  of  shops  —  not 
to  mention  the  signboards  —  have  pictures  of 
Japanese  victories  painted  upon  them.  At  night 
the  shop  lanterns  proclaim  the  pride  of  the 
nation  in  its  fleets  and  armies ;  and  a  whole 
chapter  might  easily  be  written  about  the  new 
designs  in  transparencies  and  toy  lanterns.  A 
new  revolving  lantern  —  turned  by  the  air-cur 
rent  which  its  own  flame  creates  —  has  become 
very  popular.  It  represents  a  charge  of  Jap 
anese  infantry  upon  Russian  defenses ;  and 
holes  pierced  in  the  colored  paper,  so  as  to 
produce  a  continuous  vivid  flashing  while  the 
transparency  revolves,  suggest  the  exploding 
of  shells  and  the  volleying  of  machine  guns. 

Some  displays  of  the  art-impulse,  as 
inspired  by  the  war,  have  been  made  in  direc 
tions  entirely  unfamiliar  to  Western  experience, 
192 


—  in  the  manufacture,  for  example,  of  women's 
hair  ornaments  and  dress  materials.  Dress  goods 
decorated  with  war  pictures  have  actually  be 
come  a  fashion,  —  especially  crepe  silks  for 
underwear,  and  figured  silk  linings  for  cloaks 
and  sleeves.  More  remarkable  than  these  are 
the  new  hairpins  ;  —  by  hairpins  I  mean  those 
long  double-pronged  ornaments  of  flexible  metal 
which  are  called  kanzashi,  and  are  more  or  less 
ornamented  according  to  the  age  of  the  wearer. 
(The  kanzashi  made  for  young  girls  are  highly 
decorative ;  those  worn  by  older  folk  are  plain, 
or  adorned  only  with  a  ball  of  coral  or  pol 
ished  stone.)  The  new  hairpins  might  be  called 
commemorative :  one,  of  which  the  decoration 
represents  a  British  and  a  Japanese  flag  inter 
crossed,  celebrates  the  Anglo-Japanese  alliance ; 
another  represents  an  officer's  cap  and  sword ; 
and  the  best  of  all  is  surmounted  by  a  tiny 
metal  model  of  a  battleship.  The  battleship-pin 
is  not  merely  fantastic  :  it  is  actually  pretty ! 

As  might  have  been  expected,  mili 
tary  and  naval  subjects  occupy  a  large  place 
among  the  year's  designs  for  toweling.  The 

193 


towel  designs  celebrating  naval  victories  have 
been  particularly  successful :  they  are  mostly  in 
white,  on  a  blue  ground  ;  or  in  black,  on  a  white 
ground.  One  of  the  best  —  blue  and  white  — 
represented  only  a  flock  of  gulls  wheeling  about 
the  masthead  of  a  sunken  iron-clad,  and,  far 
away,  the  silhouettes  of  Japanese  battleships 
passing  to  the  horizon.  .  .  .  What  especially 
struck  me  in  this,  and  in  several  other  designs, 
was  the  original  manner  in  which  the  Japanese 
artist  had  seized  upon  the  traits  of  the  modern 
battleship,  —  the  powerful  and  sinister  lines  of 
its  shape, — just  as  he  would  have  caught  for 
us  the  typical  character  of  a  beetle  or  a  lobster. 
The  lines  have  been  just  enough  exaggerated 
to  convey,  at  one  glance,  the  real  impression 
made  by  the  aspect  of  these  iron  monsters,  - 
a  vague  impression  of  bulk  and  force  and  men 
ace,  very  difficult  to  express  by  ordinary  methods 
of  drawing. 

Besides  towels  decorated  with  artistic 
sketches  of  this  sort,  there  have  been  placed 
upon  the  market  many  kinds  of  towels  bearing 
comic  war  pictures,  —  caricatures  or  cartoons 
194 


which  are  amusing  without  being  malignant.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  at  the  time  of  the  first 
attack  made  upon  the  Port  Arthur  squadron, 
several  of  the  Russian  officers  were  in  the  Dalny 
theatre,  —  never  dreaming  that  the  Japanese 
would  dare  to  strike  the  first  blow.  This  inci 
dent  has  been  made  the  subject  of  a  towel  de 
sign.  At  one  end  of  the  towel  is  a  comic  study 
of  the  faces  of  the  Russians,  delightedly  watch 
ing  the  gyrations  of  a  ballet  dancer.  At  the 
other  end  is  a  study  of  the  faces  of  the  same 
commanders  when  they  find,  on  returning  to 
the  port,  only  the  masts  of  their  battleships 
above  water.  Another  towel  shows  a  proces 
sion  of  fish  in  front  of  a  surgeon's  office  — 
waiting  their  turns  to  be  relieved  of  sundry  bay 
onets,  swords,  revolvers,  and  rifles,  which  have 
stuck  in  their  throats.  A  third  towel  picture 
represents  a  Russian  diver  examining,  with  a 
prodigious  magnifying-glass,  the  holes  made 
by  torpedoes  in  the  hull  of  a  sunken  cruiser. 
Comic  verses  or  legends,  in  cursive  text,  are 
printed  beside  these  pictures. 

The   great   house   of   Mitsui,   which 

195 


placed  the  best  of  these  designs  on  the  market, 
also  produced  some  beautiful  souvenirs  of  the 
war,  in  the  shape  of  fukusa.  (Kfukusa  is  an 
ornamental  silk  covering,  or  wrapper,  put  over 
presents  sent  to  friends  on  certain  occasions, 
and  returned  after  the  present  has  been  re 
ceived.)  These  are  made  of  the  heaviest  and 
costliest  silk,  and  inclosed  within  appropriately 
decorated  covers.  Upon  oxiefuktisa  is  a  colored 
picture  of  the  cruisers  Nisshin  and  Kasuga, 
under  full  steam ;  and  upon  another  has  been 
printed,  in  beautiful  Chinese  characters,  the 
full  text  of  the  Imperial  Declaration  of  war. 

But  the  strangest  things  that  I  have 
seen  in  this  line  of  production  were  silk  dresses 
for  baby  girls,  —  figured  stuffs  which,  when 
looked  at  from  a  little  distance,  appeared  incom 
parably  pretty,  owing  to  the  masterly  juxtapo 
sition  of  tints  and  colors.  On  closer  inspection 
the  charming  design  proved  to  be  composed  en 
tirely  of  war  pictures,  —  or,  rather,  fragments  of 
pictures,  blended  into  one  astonishing  combina 
tion  :  naval  battles ;  burning  warships ;  subma 
rine  mines  exploding  ;  torpedo  boats  attacking  ; 
196 


charges  of  Cossacks  repulsed  by  Japanese  infan 
try;  artillery  rushing  into  position  ;  storming  of 
forts  ;  long  lines  of  soldiery  advancing  through 
mist.  Here  were  colors  of  blood  and  fire,  tints  of 
morning  haze  and  evening  glow,  noon-blue  and 
starred  night-purple,  sea-gray  and  field-green,  — 
most  wonderful  thing !  ...  I  suppose  that  the 
child  of  a  military  or  naval  officer  might,  with 
out  impropriety,  be  clad  in  such  a  robe.  But 
then  —  the  unspeakable  pity  of  things ! 

The  war  toys  are  innumerable  :  I  can 
attempt  to  mention  only  a  few  of  the  more 
remarkable  kinds. 

Japanese  children  play  many  sorts  of 
card  games,  some  of  which  are  old,  others  quite 
new.  There  are  poetical  card  games,  for  exam 
ple,  played  with  a  pack  of  which  each  card  bears 
the  text  of  a  poem,  or  part  of  a  poem  ;  and  the 
player  should  be  able  to  remember  the  name 
of  the  author  of  any  quotation  in  the  set.  Then 
there  are  geographical  card  games,  in  which 
each  of  the  cards  used  bears  the  name,  and  per 
haps  a  little  picture,  of  some  famous  site,  town, 

197 


or  temple ;  and  the  player  should  be  able  to  re 
member  the  district  and  province  in  which  the 
mentioned  place  is  situated.  The  latest  novelty 
in  this  line  is  a  pack  of  cards  with  pictures  upon 
them  of  the  Russian  war  vessels  ;  and  the  player 
should  be  able  to  state  what  has  become  of 
every  vessel  named,  —  whether  sunk,  disabled, 
or  confined  in  Port  Arthur. 

There  is  another  card  game  in  which 
the  battleships,  cruisers,  and  torpedo  craft  of 
both  Japan  and  Russia  are  represented.  The 
winner  in  this  game  destroys  his  "captures  "  by 
tearing  the  cards  taken.  But  the  shops  keep 
packages  of  each  class  of  warship  cards  in  stock ; 
and  when  all  the  destroyers  or  cruisers  of  one 
country  have  been  put  hors  de  combat,  the  de 
feated  party  can  purchase  new  vessels  abroad. 
One  torpedo  boat  costs  about  one  farthing ;  but 
five  torpedo  boats  can  be  bought  for  a  penny. 

The  toy-shops  are  crammed  with  mod 
els  of  battleships,  —  in  wood,  clay,  porcelain, 
lead,  and  tin,  —  of  many  sizes  and  prices.  Some 
of  the  larger  ones,  moved  by  clockwork,  are 
named  after  Japanese  battleships :  Shikishima, 
198 


Fuji,  Mikasa.  One  mechanical  toy  represents 
the  sinking  of  a  Russian  vessel  by  a  Japanese 
torpedo  boat.  Among  cheaper  things  of  this 
class  is  a  box  of  colored  sand,  for  the  represen 
tation  of  naval  engagements.  Children  arrange 
the  sand  so  as  to  resemble  waves ;  and  with  each 
box  of  sand  are  sold  two  fleets  of  tiny  leaden 
vessels.  The  Japanese  ships  are  white,  and  the 
Russian  black ;  and  explosions  of  torpedoes  are 
to  be  figured  by  small  cuttings  of  vermilion 
paper,  planted  in  the  sand. 

The  children  of  the  poorest  classes 
make  their  own  war  toys  ;  and  I  have  been 
wondering  whether  those  ancient  feudal  laws 
(translated  by  Professor  Wigmore),  which  fixed 
the  cost  and  quality  of  toys  to  be  given  to  chil 
dren,  did  not  help  to  develop  that  ingenuity 
which  the  little  folk  display.  Recently  I  saw  a 
group  of  children  in  our  neighborhood  playing 
at  the  siege  of  Port  Arthur,  with  fleets  impro 
vised  out  of  scraps  of  wood  and  some  rusty  nails. 
A  tub  of  water  represented  Port  Arthur.  Bat 
tleships  were  figured  by  bits  of  plank,  into 

199 


which  chop-sticks  had  been  fixed  to  represent 
masts,  and  rolls  of  paper  to  represent  funnels. 
Little  flags,  appropriately  colored,  were  fastened 
to  the  masts  with  rice  paste.  Torpedo  boats 
were  imaged  by  splinters,  into  each  of  which  a 
short  thick  nail  had  been  planted  to  indicate  a 
smokestack.  Stationary  submarine  mines  were 
represented  by  small  squares  of  wood,  each  hav 
ing  one  long  nail  driven  into  it;  and  these  little 
things,  when  dropped  into  water  with  the  nail- 
head  downwards,  would  keep  up  a  curious  bob 
bing  motion  for  a  long  time.  Other  squares 
of  wood,  having  clusters  of  short  nails  driven 
into  them,  represented  floating  mines:  and  the 
mimic  battleships  were  made  to  drag  for  these, 
with  lines  of  thread.  The  pictures  in  the  Japan 
ese  papers  had  doubtless  helped  the  children  to 
imagine  the  events  of  the  war  with  tolerable 
accuracy. 

Naval  caps  for  children  have  become, 
of  course,  more  in  vogue  than  ever  before. 
Some  of  the  caps  bear,  in  Chinese  characters  of 
burnished  metal,  the  name  of  a  battleship,  or 
the  words  Nippon  Teikoku  (Empire  of  Japan), 

200 


—  disposed  like  the  characters  upon  the  cap 
of  a  blue-jacket.  On  some  caps,  however,  the 
ship's  name  appears  in  English  letters,  —  Ya- 
shima,  Fuji,  etc. 

The  play-impulse,  I  had  almost  for 
gotten  to  say,  is  shared  by  the  soldiers  them 
selves,  —  though  most  of  those  called  to  the 
front  do  not  expect  to  return  in  the  body. 
They  ask  only  to  be  remembered  at  the  Spirit- 
Invoking  Shrine  (Shdkonsha),  where  the  shades 
of  all  who  die  for  Emperor  and  country  are 
believed  to  gather.  The  men  of  the  regiments 
temporarily  quartered  in  our  suburb,  on  their 
way  to  the  war,  found  time  to  play  at  mimic 
war  with  the  small  folk  of  the  neighborhood. 
(At  all  times  Japanese  soldiers  are  very  kind 
to  children  ;  and  the  children  here  march  with 
them,  join  in  their  military  songs,  and  cor 
rectly  salute  their  officers,  feeling  sure  that  the 
gravest  officer  will  return  the  salute  of  a  little 
child.)  When  the  last  regiment  went  away,  the 
men  distributed  toys  among  the  children  assem 
bled  at  the  station  to  give  them  a  parting  cheer, 

201 


—  hairpins,  with  military  symbols  for  ornament, 
to  the  girls  ;  wooden  infantry  and  tin  cavalry 
to  the  boys.  The  oddest  present  was  a  small 
clay  model  of  a  Russian  soldier's  head,  presented 
with  the  jocose  promise :  "  If  we  come  back, 
we  shall  bring  you  some  real  ones."  In  the  top 
of  the  head  there  is  a  small  wire  loop,  to  which 
a  rubber  string  can  be  attached.  At  the  time 
of  the  war  with  China,  little  clay  models  of 
Chinese  heads,  with  very  long  queues,  were 
favorite  toys. 

The  war  has  also  suggested  a  variety 
of  new  designs  for  that  charming  object,  the 
toko-niwa.  Few  of  my  readers  know  what  a 
toko-niwa,  or  "alcove-garden,"  is.  It  is  a  min 
iature  garden  —  perhaps  less  than  two  feet 
square  —  contrived  within  an  ornamental  shal 
low  basin  of  porcelain  or  other  material,  and 
placed  in  the  alcove  of  a  guest-room  by  way  of 
decoration.  You  may  see  there  a  tiny  pond  ;  a 
streamlet  crossed  by  humped  bridges  of  Chinese 
pattern ;  dwarf  trees  forming  a  grove,  and 
shading  the  model  of  a  Shinto  temple  ;  imita- 
202 


tions  in  baked  clay  of  stone  lanterns,  —  perhaps 
even  the  appearance  of  a  hamlet  of  thatched 
cottages.  If  the  toko-niwa  be  not  too  small,  you 
may  see  real  fish  swimming  in  the  pond,  or  a 
pet  tortoise  crawling  among  the  rockwork. 
Sometimes  the  miniature  garden  represents 
Horai,  and  the  palace  of  the  Dragon-King. 

Two  new  varieties  have  come  into 
fashion.  One  is  a  model  of  Port  Arthur,  show 
ing  the  harbor  and  the  forts  ;  and  with  the 
materials  for  the  display  there  is  sold  a  little 
map,  showing  how  to  place  certain  tiny  battle 
ships,  representing  the  imprisoned  and  the  in 
vesting  fleets.  The  other  toko-niwa  represents 
a  Korean  or  Chinese  landscape,  with  hill  ranges 
and  rivers  and  woods ;  and  the  appearance  of 
a  battle  is  created  by  masses  of  toy  soldiers  — 
cavalry,  infantry,  and  artillery  —  in  all  positions 
of  attack  and  defense.  Minute  forts  of  baked 
clay,  bristling  with  cannon  about  the  size  of 
small  pins,  occupy  elevated  positions.  When 
properly  arranged  the  effect  is  panoramic. 
The  soldiers  in  the  foreground  are  about  an 
inch  long  ;  those  a  little  farther  away  about 

203 


half  as  long ;  and  those  upon  the  hills  are  no 
larger  than  flies. 

But  the  most  remarkable  novelty  of 
this  sort  yet  produced  is  a  kind  of  toko-niwa 
recently  on  display  at  a  famous  shop  in  Ginza. 
A  label  bearing  the  inscription,  Kai-tei  no  Ikken 
(View  of  the  Ocean-Bed)  sufficiently  explained 
the  design.  The  su'ibon,  or  "  water-tray/'  con 
taining  the  display  was  half  filled  with  rocks 
and  sand  so  as  to  resemble  a  sea-bottom ;  and 
little  fishes  appeared  swarming  in  the  fore 
ground.  A  little  farther  back,  upon  an  ele 
vation,  stood  Otohime,  the  Dragon-King's 
daughter,  surrounded  by  her  maiden  attendants, 
and  gazing,  with  just  the  shadow  of  a  smile,  at 
two  men  in  naval  uniform  who  were  shaking 
hands,  —  dead  heroes  of  the  war :  Admiral 
Makaroff  and  Commander  Hirose!  .  .  .  These 
had  esteemed  each  other  in  life  ;  and  it  was  a 
happy  thought  thus  to  represent  their  friendly 
meeting  in  the  world  of  Spirits. 

Though  his  name  is  perhaps  unfamiliar 
to  English  readers,  Commander  Takeo  Hirose" 
204 


has  become,  deservedly,  one  of  Japan's  national 
heroes.  On  the  27th  of  March,  during  the 
second  attempt  made  to  block  the  entrance  to 
Port  Arthur,  he  was  killed  while  endeavoring 
to  help  a  comrade,  — a  comrade  who  had 
formerly  saved  him  from  death.  For  five  years 
Hirose  had  been  a  naval  attache"  at  St.  Peters 
burg,  and  had  made  many  friends  in  Russian 
naval  and  military  circles.  From  boyhood  his 
life  had  been  devoted  to  study  and  duty ;  and 
it  was  commonly  said  of  him  that  he  had 
no  particle  of  selfishness  in  his  nature.  Unlike 
most  of  his  brother  officers,  he  remained  un 
married,  —  holding  that  no  man  who  might  be 
called  on  at  any  moment  to  lay  down  his  life 
for  his  country  had  a  moral  right  to  marry. 
The  only  amusements  in  which  he  was  ever 
known  to  indulge  were  physical  exercises  ;  and 
he  was  acknowledged  one  of  the  best  jujutsu 
(wrestlers)  in  the  empire.  The  heroism  of  his 
death,  at  the  age  of  thirty- six,  had  much  less 
to  do  with  the  honors  paid  to  his  memory  than 
the  self-denying  heroism  of  his  life. 

Now  his  picture  is  in  thousands  of 

205 


homes,  and  his  name  is  celebrated  in  every  vil 
lage.  It  is  celebrated  also  by  the  manufacture 
of  various  souvenirs,  which  are  sold  by  myriads. 
For  example,  there  is  a  new  fashion  in  sleeve- 
buttons,  called  Kinen-botan,  or  "  Commemora 
tion-buttons."  Each  button  bears  a  miniature 
portrait  of  the  commander,  with  the  inscription, 
Shichi-sho  hokoku,  "  Even  in  seven  successive 
lives  —  for  love  of  country."  It  is  recorded 
that  Hirose  often  cited,  to  friends  who  criticised 
his  ascetic  devotion  to  duty,  the  famous  utter 
ance  of  Kusunoki  Masashige,  who  declared,  ere 
laying  down  his  life  for  the  Emperor  Go-Daigo, 
that  he  desired  to  die  for  his  sovereign  in  seven 
successive  existences. 

But  the  highest  honor  paid  to  the 
memory  of  Hirose  is  of  a  sort  now  possible 
only  in  the  East,  though  once  possible  also  in 
the  West,  when  the  Greek  or  Roman  patriot- 
hero  might  be  raised,  by  the  common  love  of 
his  people,  to  the  place  of  the  Immortals.  .  .  . 
Wine-cups  of  porcelain  have  been  made,  deco 
rated  with  his  portrait ;  and  beneath  the  portrait 
appears,  in  ideographs  of  gold,  the  inscription, 
206 


Guns  kin  Hires /  Chusa.  The  character  "gun  " 
signifies  war ;  the  character  "  shin"  a  god,  — 
either  in  the  sense  of  divus  or  deus,  according 
to  circumstances  ;  and  the  Chinese  text,  read 
in  the  Japanese  way,  is  Ikusa  no  Kami.  Whether 
that  stern  and  valiant  spirit  is  really  invoked 
by  the  millions  who  believe  that  no  brave  soul 
is  doomed  to  extinction,  no  well-spent  life  laid 
down  in  vain,  no  heroism  cast  away,  I  do  not 
know.  But,  in  any  event,  human  affection  and 
gratitude  can  go  no  farther  than  this  ;  and  it 
must  be  confessed  that  Old  Japan  is  still  able 
to  confer  honors  worth  dying  for. 

Boys  and  girls  in  all  the  children's 
schools  are  now  singing  the  Song  of  Hiros£ 
Chusa,  which  is  a  marching  song.  The  words 
and  the  music  are  published  in  a  little  booklet, 
with  a  portrait  of  the  late  commander  upon  the 
cover.  Everywhere,  and  at  all  hours  of  the  day, 
one  hears  this  song  being  sung  :  — 

He  whose  every  word  and  deed  gave 
to  men  an  example  of  what  the  war-folk  of  the 

207 


Empire  of  Nippon  should  be,  —  Commander 
Hirose" :  is  he  really  dead? 

Though  the  body  die,  the  spirit  dies 
not.  He  who  wished  to  be  reborn  seven  times 
into  this  world,  for  the  sake  of  serving  his  coun 
try,  for  the  sake  of  requiting  the  Imperial  favor, 
—  Commander  Hirost :  Jias  he  really  died  ? 

"  Since  I  am  a  son  of  the  Country  of 
the  Gods,  the  fire  of  the  evil-hearted  Russians 
cannot  touch  me  !  "  -  The  sturdy  Takeo  who 
spoke  thus :  can  he  really  be  dead  ?  .  .  . 

Nay  !  that  glorious  war-death  meant 
imdying  fame  ;  — beyond  a  thousand  years  the 
valiant  heart  shall  live  ;  —  as  to  a  god  of  war 
shall  reverence  be  paid  to  him.  .  .  . 

Observing  the  playful  confidence  of 
this  wonderful  people  in  their  struggle  for 
existence  against  the  mightiest  power  of  the 
West,  —  their  perfect  trust  in  the  wisdom  of 
their  leaders  and  the  valor  of  their  armies,  — 
the  good  humor  of  their  irony  when  mocking 
the  enemy's  blunders,  —  their  strange  capacity 
to  find,  in  the  world-stirring  events  of  the  hour, 
208 


the  same  amusement  that  they  would  find  in 
watching  a  melodrama,  —  one  is  tempted  to 
ask :  "  What  would  be  the  moral  consequence 
of  a  national  defeat  ?  "  .  .  .  It  would  depend,  I 
think,  upon  circumstances.  Were  Kuropatkin 
able  to  fulfill  his  rash  threat  of  invading  Japan, 
the  nation  would  probably  rise  as  one  man. 
But  otherwise  the  knowledge  of  any  great  disas 
ter  would  be  bravely  borne.  From  time  unknown 
Japan  has  been  a  land  of  cataclysms, —  earth 
quakes  that  ruin  cities  in  the  space  of  a  mo 
ment  ;  tidal  waves,  two  hundred  miles  long, 
sweeping  whole  coast  populations  out  of  exist 
ence  ;  floods  submerging  hundreds  of  leagues 
of  well-tilled  fields ;  eruptions  burying  provinces. 
Calamities  like  this  have  disciplined  the  race  in 
resignation  and  in  patience  ;  and  it  has  been 
well  trained  also  to  bear  with  courage  all  the 
misfortunes  of  war.  Even  by  the  foreign  peo 
ples  that  have  been  most  closely  in  contact  with 
her,  the  capacities  of  Japan  remained  unguessed. 
Perhaps  her  power  to  resist  aggression  is  far 
surpassed  by  her  power  to  endure. 


209 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
U    •    S    •    A 


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